Thoughts in a season of dreary news

So is this how it ends — civilization we call it?

First, a few trillion insults
uncountable mounting thoughtless words,
and a billion well-meaning projects
each with fruits unintended
unforeseen misdirected
sinned and singed
by one human condition
now globalized across a
heating planet.

Second, thousands of tribes
laced with beauty each
hoping to protect but
crowded and longing
to live unimpeded
an ordinary day
a peaceful century
a lifetime of generations
a dream of millenia
a normal life
an evening meal
at home.

Third, the wandering nomads
children of Sarah and Abraham
once having laughed
once having listened
once in faith departing
for a homeland better
for the sharing
blessed in each one blessing
needing not to own to own
settling now for fierce possession,
each now alone,
in fear of faith
unmapped.

Fourth, elbows jagging exponentially
for a bit more space
for pride respected
for insults returned
for identity lashed
lest those few trillion wrongs go
unrequited
forever.

Fifth, vicious cycles cycling
(but now we’re better armed
than the ancients whose names we defend).

Sixth, we implode?

 

Gerald Schlabach
drafted: 31 August 2014

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