One is warm and welcoming
It speaks of comfort
Of understanding and love
One is chill and frightening
It speaks of danger
Of strange presences and hatred
Is it the air? The lights or scents?
Or is it a sense of the soul?
Imagination run riot?
Or an edge that keeps you whole?
A circle long doused.
Among the sodden cinders
Lurks a spark,
Strong and steady,
Deprived of tinder:
Unquenchable
Bite after bite
Of tasteless, worthless hatred
Stuffed into the mouth
By cold, callous hands.
Over-sated and un-pleasured,
The stomach screams.
But those unflinching hands
Shovel on.
Constantly recording, whatever your will,
The body learns: sights, sounds, and smells.
From whatever makes you ill.
Pain of body, mind, and heart lives on
Far past the time it should.
Brought back by sights or sounds or smells
The body learned for good.
Walking backward won’t recapture the past.
Re-creation makes only caricatures:
Hollow visions that cannot satisfy truth
Though they delude ignorant eyes
And break further knowing hearts.
Unity for power – once.
Now, tradition. Weakened
Institutions, too
Overwhelmed with politics to
Nurture their responsibilities.
A hopeless cause:
To save all
To help all
An abandoned cause:
Saves none
Helps none
A pursued cause:
Save some
Helps some
twytte 