hope undressed

we wander like ghosts
roaming fields
cerebral streets
neural pathways
school buildings

the clocks tick
we cannot concentrate
it is the ghosts that tick
we cannot comprehend
a word of this

and our minds
are as windows onto the rain
our thoughts
when least entertained
subside like
ripples on water
when the wind dies

we are multitudes
suppressed
but our hope
when undressed
is an education
with no words
a sacredness
with no religion