PEOPLE

.
I sit on a bench in the town,
Watching the people go by:
A girl on a bike;
An old man gazing at TV in a shop;
Above the traffic's hum
A little boy talks to his mum;
Shoppers walk up and down;

Do they know
How marvellous they are,
Minds and bodies
More wonderfully constructed
Than anything else
In all the universe,
Miracles of design and complexity,
Which even heal themselves?

So how can people ever harm one another,
Or complain about trivialities,
Or waste time?

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