What can I say
in just five short minutes?

Why comes the punishment
down on one
who is innocent?

It’s an imperfect world. . .
yet, we all
must live in it.

Though the surface shows bare,
there’s actually riches
hidden right under there,
which could be,
if we tried,
dug up in a minute.

Or hovering somewhere,
in our vast atmosphere
quite big, but mysteriously
as if it were sneaky,
or else maybe timid.

Or perhaps, in the water,
some colder, some hotter
which flows through our seas,
streams, and rivers
our primeval life-giver
which, though we’ve mucked it up
somehow still lets flow
life’s own force
to some bountiful limit.

The sunshine so bright
warms us and feeds us. . .
Though it,
at least not at one strike,
cannot all our ills right,
but it helps,
as brings
oh so, so
much stuff to light,
and thus helps us see
all that needs to be done,
and whatever from that
cries out to be first begun,
and it gives us
the courage and strength
to begin it.

This entry was posted in Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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