People by Francis Brabazon
People are man and man is people. Their bones are the structure of the Universe. Their tongues are the harps of the stars. Their hearts are nets which can capture God... The Sun rises each day only to light their world, The Sun rises each day only to light their world, And the night comes down just to cover their secret wanderings. Only people give the day and the night significance. Although it took millions of years for them to appear, People were present in the act of Creation. Each one burst out of the Word As a flaming Sun to burn into a man. And when each one dies, a whole world dies with him. Each one is born twice. From his first kiss, and when he bursts the limitations of the stars which cling to him. People build cities and monuments Of music and poetry and song, To tame the nomad in them, To celebrate their eternal journeying. People are the reason for the Creation. There will never be an end to people. Wars and earthquakes and tidal waves Will wipe out cities and waste the farmland. The ice will creep down shearing off civilization, But people will come up again. The earth will grow cold, But it will be replaced by another. For there must always be a place for people. A place on which to stand and sing.
