The morning rush, the fret, the sigh
Crowds on the pavement hurry by,
Another day to dash, and fly.
The business man, with mind engaged
On overflowing diary page,
Commercial wars to win and wage.
Young mothers, harassed, join the rush
To battle through the busy crush
With tiny ones – Hush baby, hush.
And children shove and play the fool
And dawdle on their way to school
Not keen to hurry - that’s not cool!
The homeless spend another day
Crouched in an open shop-doorway
Calling to those who pass their way.
And so throbs all humanity
With much to do, and much to see,
But wait, once more, a mystery!
Quietness descends, a halt to talk,
Steps slow and linger on their walk,
Again, that word in yellow chalk.
In flowing curving copper plate
One word calls men to hesitate
To stop, to think, to contemplate.
Who writes this word for all to see
Day after day incessantly?
It shouts so loud – ‘ETERNITY’.
In memory of Arthur Stace, ‘Mr Eternity’ (1884-1967) who wrote the word ‘Eternity’on the streets of Australia apporoximately 500,000 in his lifetime, to cause people to consider the reality of God and eternity.
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