Human beings suffer,They torture one another,They get hurt and get hard.No poem or play or songCan fully right a wrongInflicted and endured.
The innocent in gaolsBeat on their bars together.A hunger-striker’s fatherStands in the graveyard dumb.The police widow in veilsFaints at the funeral home.
History says, don’t hopeOn this side of the grave.But then, once in a lifetimeThe longed-for tidal waveOf justice can rise up,And hope and history rhyme.
So hope for a great sea-changeOn the far side of revenge.Believe that further shoreIs reachable from here.Believe in miracleAnd cures and healing wells.
Call miracle self-healing:The utter, self-revealingDouble-take of feeling.If there’s fire on the mountainOr lightning and stormAnd a god speaks from the sky
That means someone is hearingThe outcry and the birth-cryOf new life at its term.