Numerous giants stand straight and tall
While ignorant mortals to and fro run
The sun will soon hide its glorious light
From a city that is much too busy
Yet superficial stars will still glow
Brightly on a sleepless people.
The avenues are full of people
Some of are short and others tall
All night, the flashing marquees glow
Against their faces, as taxis run.
Every restaurant and store keeps busy
Darkness is hard to find amid the urban light.
Miles away, scarce is the light.
In the countryside, few are the people.
Assigned is a new meaning to “busy”
Field upon field of cornstalks stand tall
A flurry of dreams are all that has run
And the moon is all that will glow.
Before the sun will a single lamp glow
A farmer will dress in its weak light
With a shutter, his tractor will run
The hills are spotted with people
No longer does the corn stand tall
This is a different kind of “busy.”
Back in the city, no one is busy
Flashy signs have cut their glow.
Without the hustle, the giants once tall
Appear small, as windows reflect the morning light.
The coffee shops quickly fill with people
As swift winds down the streets run.
In both places will time always run
Hands will stay busy,
People will make people.
In both places will the sun, moon glow
Amid false light, amid true light
Here and there, society stands tall.
Smoother our lives will run
Though we may stay busy
We add to civilization as a people.