grasping at the wind

grasping at the wind

in Spring equinox days and longer nights,

man counts his achievements over

twenty one centuries of civilisation...

the ground warms up 

seas swell higher

and mankind has lost it's kindness.

I live by an empty church-

the graveyard holds more life.

My dog chases a rabbit into wild bushes.

and I pick fresh flowers by the headstones.

Puffy clouds hold the balance of

sunlight and rain, 

hail scatters outside new buildings full of neon.

But bombs fall from that same sky

in the Middle East

and children cry in the dirt.


But there are still blossoms

petals fall at my feet,

yesterday a rainbow arced over a highway full of potholes

while my car kept moving.

I say my prayers,

and wait for answers...

a fat pigeon sings on my fence.


I feel the wind blow warmly through my hair...

fulfilling dreams of justice.






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