Hands up, you precious coins
Stuffed down the side
Of sofas.
Hands up, you buried
Talents, wasted, wasting
Away,
Awaiting the light of
Day, a hand up, a hand
Out
Of this, your enforced
Idleness, forgotten
Cages.

What price discovering the pearl
That is this human resource,
Treasure
Beyond compare, worth
The sale of all we hold our
Own?
What might we make
Together, if all the lost were
Found
Our places, niches, let off
Our leashes, free-reign
Creatures

Creating: creative hearers,
Builders, healers, of a
World,
However small, to make
Our own, to offer up?
A garden
Nursed from urban jungle,
Opened up to evening’s pilgrims,
Walkers,
Seeking solace or
Companions – both human
And divine?

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