1. Procession of Hope
Pamela Russell
A small procession hardly seen creeps toward the light,
Leaving from its depot, fleeing dark at night;
It struggles to unpin itself from a dark cocoon
And unencumbered
S t r e t c h
To reach the far side of its moon
A spirit of unrest has driven it these miles,
And caused it to postulate survival of a trial;
This procession of hope, winding through the world
Cradles every vision as an unpolished
Pearl!
An internal voice cries out
In whispers first then shouts;
For a silver sleeve of light can't be held in folds of time,
But shines from the eternal, meant for first
In
Line.