a poem is a sermon
Perhaps the world will end tomorrow night.
With so few sane in charge, that would make sense.
Besides, if the Cassandras have it right,
it’s way past time for sitting on the fence,
pretending that our waking up at last
can make a whit of difference to the tide.
The world evolves without suspense or trick;
it is and it becomes, with no delay,
both seed and flower’s dried husk, derelict
from newborn babe within each single day.
What seems to be so permanent and cast
in stone, begins to crumble at its birth;
mere nothingness is all that seems to last –
and we know just exactly what that’s worth.
What will we do? How will we carry on when all around us hate and anger rage and nothing seems to matter ’til it’s gone? Who will we be here on the empty stage? Where will we find the strength and will to fight as enemies just multiply and grow? Do our eyes dim, or […]
There is no time to lose, soothsayers tell us; Make hay! The sun will shine just for a while, and once it’s gone, the world will turn to rust, deprived of motive power, warmth, and style. All things depend on endless solar power, that radiating energy that fuels the moments of our lives, the days […]