Easter Poem

There is a story told that no-one hears.
Interest is showy, like a starched handkerchief.
Call on the tough and lonely for their tears.

Either we stick too close to our careers,
or else we court existence like a thief.
There is a story told that no-one hears.

What do you hope, what hugwarm sleuth endears?
What daze of sex, fame, money – what relief?
Call on the tough and lonely for their tears.

I who will die tonight see through the years.
(All these buildings. Earth. Tree and leaf.)
There is a story told that no-one hears.

One grows up and the future disappears.
I cannot find expression for my grief.
Call on the tough and lonely for their tears.

Oh look, the night’s grip breaks, and a path clears,
  for there are some with calm of their belief.
There is a story told that no-one hears.
Call on the tough and lonely for their tears.