Enough

Roses blooming in December; how
sweet, the succulence of mother earth.
Pink and violet snap-dragons, daring
yet to be reality. Green grass and
sunlit skies abide within the shortened
days to leave more time for all the many
Christmas lights to shine. Just warm
enough to keep Jack Frost at bay. There
was a time when this would be enough.

And yet a greater chill has entered
into every soul; for war abounds
across the realms of life. Rage and
anger rise to nullify the sense of
loving mercy that so many still might
come to feel. Christmas comes, and
yet the love we used to feel just isn't
there the way it used to be, not any
more - not now.

Choirs of angels lie in wait, wondering
if ever all the noise will just abate; tired
of singing to that world of men who rarely
listen. The days and weeks and years
and centuries have grown too long
between their songs. And so they
write, the angels' spawn - the poets
and the bards - hoping they might
find a word, a phrase, a song - to
open hearts again.

Can anyone amend the many wrongs
that have transpired throughout history?
Will another scapegoat ease the growing
pain we all have felt? Emotions speak
a mystery that intellect will never grasp
if left divided from its roots of being. No
sense of willed control will ever make it
go away. No drug prescribed will quell
the rising beat of hearts we push too fast,
too hard - as relentlessly, we run from
what we feel.

Have you taken stock of late, of all
that lies within your heart and soul?
Have you reached to touch the whole
and bring a feel of the eternal wonder
only loving brings - here into this realm
we call reality? A tender touch, a smile
that lights up eyes. An understanding,
reaching deep enough for healing to
begin. Or do you merely quicken
every move you make again? Despising
and yet needing to belong within that
ever swarming throng of multitudes.

What matters most - the vast well-being
of the many? Then why, oh why, the
growing numbers of so many individuals
in pain that seems to never end at all...?
Why the great abuse of drugs, both
legal and outlawed? Shall we become
no more than just another clone of
our society again? Saluting to a flag
and stars that ceased their shining
back in days of yore that passed
into the mists.

Roses blooming in December; how
sweet, the succulence of mother earth.
Pink and violet snap-dragons, daring
yet to be reality. Green grass and
sunlit skies abide within the shortened
days to leave more time for all the many
Christmas lights to shine. Just warm
enough to keep Jack Frost at bay.

There was a time, when this would be
enough...

? Michaelette ?

12/4/2001
Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home...