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SMILING MAN FROM A DEAD PLANET: THE MYSTERY OF LYNDON LAROUCHE | PREFACE: The Goldfish Bowl >

One day
where the children played
There came a smiling man from a dead planet
 
He stood
As if to show he knew
The way of children
And a stranger
 
Soon
More curious that startled
The children shuffled;
Eyeing the figure that
Seemed not to menace after all
 
"He is this," one said,
Or perhaps that," another suggested
 
One child looked directly
At the man
The stranger's eyes smiled,
His mouth unchanged.
 
In time,
The boldest spoke
The stranger nodded.
Another tried,
"He does not speak
our language," one proposed
 
After the failure
Of several efforts to prompt
Conversation from the visitor.
 
"He knows,"
another corrected.
"See his eyes."
"He understands ?"
another asked.
"You understand?" he said
to the stranger.
 
The man's expression
Didn't change,
They swore later.
But all the same
They knew he understood.
 
They were pleased
So pleased.
They turned from the visitor
For a moment.
To share their opinion.
When they glanced back,
He was gone.
 
They never saw him again
But they know
That something
Important
And good
Had happened for him
And for themselves.

Poem by Lyndon LaRouche. Cited by Dan Jacobs in "A True History of Lyn Marcus [Lyndon LaRouche] and the Labor Committees" published in Critical Practice, The Theoretical Journal of the International Workers Party, 1975.

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Page last modified on February 08, 2013, at 03:14 PM