Sometimes I want to roll up my sleeves, step on into it
and hurl things, wailing in anguish and outrage.
I take note, you see, of what’s going on.
But it’s like the lyrics from that ‘60’s era tune,
either Moody Blues or the Beatles,
maybe you’ll know:
“Someone exploded a bomb today,
but it wasn’t anybody I knew.”
Another bomb? Too bad; so sad.
I take note and tuck it away.
The creek beckons. Trees are waiting
to be heard. Go now. Gifts await.
It will keep you sane.
And I did. And it does.
But as I said, I take note of what’s going on.
And from time to time I look beneath
the surface and am astonished at how vile
evil can be, what a cold and twisted thing
.
Then I remember the creek. And the trees.
And I am saved.