Wednesday, June 20, 2018

Owning The Adventure

You will never believe
The things that I have seen,
Though, I could tell you a hundred stories

Days when everything
Is sacred
And pregnant
With hope.
Grass stands
Thick, cool, and green
Beside a burbling stream
On a Siberian slope.
Trees older than Jesus
Reach to the sky
Gnarled high,
Mid-Nevada miracles,
Stark clear and dry.
A mother,
A astronaut,
Reaches the stars
And shares the trip
So that more children
Dare the slip
From the surly bonds
Of gravity.
Free to see
Earth’s blue marble beaming.
Underpaid firefighters
Stop traffic
To rescue
Squirrel puppies.
All God’s creatures
Are small,
Are great--
Small on judging,
Big in faith.
And I believe
In everything.

Days when nothing
Is sacred
Nor born
With good will.
Rival owners
Firebomb strip clubs
Killing sex-traffic victims
And booming their business.
A trusted official
Commits the felony
And not only goes free,
But doesn’t have to flee,
And still gets re-elected,
While the Under-Represented Minority
Remains unduly suspected.
Fundamental attribution error
Breeds increasing cognitive bias
Like plastic pollutes the sea
And millions in apathy
Toss on billions of straws.
Camels aren’t just beaten
Bloody and raw
In fables of Shahs.
A Grandmother,
A hater,
Brutalizes a baby
Breaking bones zero to 206
Per angry shake,
But she gets to demand
The doctors finish
Killing the kid slowly
On life support.
And I believe
In nothing.

What does it mean to believe?
There once was a fork in the road…
I choose my own adventure.

There is never enough time to choose, and yet we must choose again and again each day.

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