London Graffiti

I said to my soul, "Be still."

For the rattle of the train

Carved a headache on my skull,

Stirred my stomach, made me ill,

And throbbed my hurting brain.

I said to my soul, "Be still."

Since incessant pigeons flocked,

Strutting 'bout the feet of men

Bobbing heads and pecking bills

Taunting our footfalls and socks.

I said to my soul, "Be still."

For crowds of business suits

Surged past my shoulders, faces

Blank. Empty window sills.

A deafening chorus of mute.

I said to my soul, "Be still."

My God I need your peace.

The world is whirling all askew

My own falls flat, give me your will.

Lead unto your quiet place.