The Truckers’ Song
When I see the convoy coming
in ice & drifting snow
I see how multitudes can
turn two small buns to loaves.
It is hope & spirit that’s coming
in that dazzling, glinting chrome
& the groundswell of congregations
beside long & frozen roads.
Church is not a building but a longing
in the soul, a plangent cry for
justice when the world has fallen
down — & television crews’ absence
proves a sad & ancient truth —
history is never written
by any but those who rule.
Yet time, slower than we like
has made its sojourn here now —
distant planets swayed our world
remind us who we are
& shadows shall turn to righteousness
while consciousness grows clear —
have no doubt but a new dawn is here.
And those who would oppress us
have failed to comprehend those very
fundamentals in the heart & soul of man.
So let the wheels keep turning
bring evil days to bitter end & not
forget the true exalted — humble men
& women who do the work of God.
Copyright Simon Heathcote
