'bout time to get off our high horse.
get down and dirty, soil ourselves
in existential pain, angst.

what to do about the weather
we ponder, as a land is razed.

do we confuse the explanation
with justification
or accecptance?

do we write a check,
call it good and
plan that tee-off time?

do we drive down,
lose our job,
help the helpless?

or do we pray
a non-heard prayer
as the din of pain wails.

and roses even scream,
lilacs, raccoons aflood
search for life's continuity.

moments of glory
seep through the quagmire
of death and destruction.

as our hearts
seek our soul's solace
from every meaningful vestige.

09/01/2005