For whatever suspect reason
Earth has earned its quiet Sabbatical;
Whether weekly Sabbath days or
Months, political or biblical:
Suddenly! Everything has crawled to a stop!
The streets are empty; the cars hand-braked;
The sky unscarred by high contrails, or
Lower, dirty, jet-scorched tracks;
And chainsaws’ chattering jaws of teeth
Rest on stumps of fallen trees.
From space,
Our revolving opalescent jewel of sky
Still beams its prismed lights,
And everything is Sabbath day
And silent nights.
Malcolm Ford is a teacher, poet, artist/sculptor from Whangerei, New Zealand.
