The city is replete with the finer things
Stately mansions, schools, brilliant lights,
Art and cafes, a grand dame who sings
Jobs and wealth, bustle through the nights.
Such tempo and distractions lower our sights
From the heavenly realms to a world of clay
Retarding our progress toward myriad sites.
O, let a veritable exodus carry us away.
Six and forty years immersed in an ocean of delay
Seven years of plenty are followed by lean
To providence, from calamity, there dawns the day
Which the Herald, on the first night, had already foreseen
‘Issue forth from your cities’, is the Bab’s behest,
‘and aid God’ He says, ‘O peoples of the West’1
(c) Larry Kenneth Gates, 2005
(Accepted for publication in World Order Magazine)