Hurricane

I saw a number of children

On the large ground

Each playing with himself

Gloating over some mystery found.

 

Building their palaces

With pebbles, making thrones

Mixing muddy sands

With sun-bleached stones

 

No one talked with the other around

With their own vision each was bound

For each one

This was a home

A distinguished abode

On the horse of imagination

Each one rode

 

Suddenly came

A hurricane

And a sandstorm

Shattering their images

All their work

 

Each extended hand

To catch

Other for support

With ability to match

 

Do we need a hurricane to come together?