What’s Real

Put away the newspaper.
Turn off the TV.
Shut down the computer.
They all lie

about what is news,
about what is important.
They miss the color of spring,
the butterflies and birds,

the song of the wind.
They miss lovers holding hands as they walk,
or the quiet conversations
of true intimacy.

Somehow it is not news
when a child leans into you,
safe and secure, trusting
without reservation.

They do not report hymns
or old men dancing to rock and roll,
or old women smiling their secret smiles
of familial joy.

Dumb animal tricks make us laugh,
but there are no news feeds
for the cat who lays in your lap
as you read

or the dog who shares your journey
as you tromp through trails and trials.
No headlines scream about your warm house in winter,
or the simple pleasure of comfort food.

in other words,
they miss
everything
important.

About this poem. 

I do get tired of the news. I prefer the miracles all around us.

Tom