Posts Tagged 'Compassion'

Debts

I am far behind
on my opportunities to use
those three words
so often thought, infrequently heard

I find myself wishing
for one more hour
with my parents

wishing I could go back with
my kids back to a younger age
to make up the deficit there

to listen a few moments to a friend
when I didn’t have the time

and my wife to whom
I can never say enough
I love you

Thankful

The yard looked stunning yesterday.

When I finished mowing,

I trimmed round the roses,

headed the geraniums,

and walked to the street to look back on my work.

The house, as grey as

springtime fog,

with sage green shutters

was trimmed in gold by the brush of afternoon sun;

all now just a memory.

My yard is there, somewhere

beneath a pile of

cars, shingles, fence posts,

the house an open dance floor,

no orchestra in sight.

Perched like a giant bird

in the stub of a tree,

my refrigerator still holds yesterday’s leftovers

and eggs for today’s breakfast,

forever scrambled.

From a shredded branch of a magnolia tree

a mockingbird sings his joy:

for the bright sunshine,

for living another day.

I nod and sigh,

and a hesitant smile swells from deep within me

as I must,

in spite of everything,

join his celebration.

Poor Choices

O, let America be America again –

The land that never has been yet –

And yet must be—          Langston Hughes

 

Children are foolish

to be born of parents

with no parenting skills

or the temerity

to be sick or malnourished

or to have nothing

and come to a land of plenty

or commit the crime

of darker skin, different tongue

as a nation proclaiming God

and rejecting His will

can we provide

for the least of these?

The Tower

As morning brightness

sparkles on water far below,

a tiny silver bird turns toward me,

grows into a screaming vulture

and shakes the tower

beneath my feet.

Orange  fingers reach through

cracks and holes,

seeking me,

hot breath against my back,

urging me along.

A young woman stands,

head pressed against the outside wall.

dread and pleading in her eyes.

She comes to me,

her fingers searching for mine.

I open them to her.

Seared by the inferno,

we spend a silent moment memorizing each other,

as dark tendrils search between us.

She swipes a fist at smudged tear trails.

Together,

we step to the window ledge.

Sharing one last glance,

our hands grip tightly.

We escape into cool, blue air.

Changin’ Times II

There was a time generations ago

when the frail held a special place

at the family table

 

            we wanted to love

 

There was a time generations ago

when we sat at Grandma Mary’s feet

and heard her stories

 

            we wanted to know

 

Now is a time of

bleach     bland food    walkers

blaring Fox News

 

            stored like teacups in a cupboard

Poor Choices

O, let America be America again –

The land that never has been yet –

And yet must be—          Langston Hughes

 

Children are foolish

 

to be born of parents

with no parenting skills

 

or the temerity

to be sick or malnourished

 

or to have nothing

and come to a land of plenty

 

or commit the crime

of darker skin, different tongue

 

as a nation proclaiming God

and rejecting His will

 

can we provide

for the least of these?

Togetherness

“I’ll be everywhere…. Wherever they’s a fight so hungry people can eat, I’ll be there.” John Steinbeck,  The Grapes of Wrath

 

each new day kills plans

to earn his way,

in all this land there is no place to go

 

his daughter wears

a tearful, crooked smile

her hunger a spear run through his soul

 

his promises come flat

and meaningless

his shame floods every corner of each breath

 

until he hops a freight

and goes away

to try and send a dime to take his place


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