They Toiled

by David McLoughlin
(York, England)

They toiled,
All the while
Singing of two lands.
One left behind.
Places in memory without distance.
Transported in black holes
Like Spock,
Their space and time contracted
To this hell-hole of toiling for the massa.

They toiled,
All the while
Pining for a land.
This one before.
A place for souls ready for the leaving.
Transported by deep river,
Jordan’s tide,
Their space and time expanded
Bound for Canaan Land…freed by the Massa.


© David McLoughlin, Muse Shack, January 2012