This, Too, Shall Pass (Poetry)

I’ve been waiting for the miracle —
something wonderful and strange
I’ve been looking out the window for
a harbinger of change

There’s a hint in every sunset
there’s a whisper in the rain
it’s a feeling — a faint concept —
an unscheduled late-night train

that is coming through the mountains
in some wild and unmapped land
all the snow-miles coldly counting
wasted years on either hand

I can sense it in the distance
like a tremble on the air
and it turns me in an instant —
raises hope from deep despair

Partly-promise yet half-warning
some great shake-up’s on its way
I anticipate the dawning
of that truth-defining day

meanwhile, I watch the pigeons peck
between the leaves of grass
oblivious — not one suspects
the world he knows will pass