The leaves shush their flutter in a
breeze so soft bird songs float and
for these few moments an unutterable
peace lays down under the trees to
slice my thoughts in two.
Not that far away, on the other side
of the world, soldiers wait. I imagine a
shell scream its way into a clutch of men
to set them truly free from everything
they believed it was right to die for.
A Towhee slips onto a maple branch
just over there to wait its turn at the
suet where a pubescent bluebird
explores the world outside the box
that was his universe till yesterday.
Sometimes I think we are born into
evil and there is no salvation in us.
No matter how we search for God,
to find Him would kill us, but He
comes, calling us by name.
Two Grackles like India ink dip
their nibs in my eyes and script
themselves into my play. What they
write speaks to our dark souls
trapped in a world of beauty.
In our tireless search for knowledge,
which doubles every twelve hours,
we form opinions about who to hate
based on absolutely nothing, while
we run wild-eyed to deny the truth.
Oh, look! A squirrel stands rampant
on a rock by the creek like he owns
the place, offers thanks for the food he
robs from the feeders while a green anole
flashes red desire from under his neck.
Oops, there’s the bell echoing up from
the back room where mom lays dying
so I have to go and tend to some last
minute need while I leave life out here
to take care of itself.
Yes, on forming opinions on whom to hate…
this is intense, second stanza is a hard-to-read truth.
My mother lie dying…but I am pretty sure she was aware enough of what was going on around her…I wonder if she
wished everyone was not so sad? Lives need to be celebrated, and we often forget that when we are making arrangements after someone close passes on.
REally good write.
j.
It’s funny how judgment is passed so easily. Time is fleeting and we still do it. I hope you’re okay. Very well written