The Earth We Grow In
Today, on the fourth, I do not wave the flag.
For a return to kindness.
For listening over shouting.
For a return to listening.
For thought over slogans.
For inclusion. Not tolerance, inclusion.
For solutions over money.
For evolution over revolt.
I pray for the lost, all of us,
and the grace to grow
without burning the very earth we grow in.
The Lost Things
Today, I pray, more sad than angry.
Needing the day to remember the wonderful mongrel
we were meant to be, putting signs on posts
seeking the lost things.
About these poems
This began as a rant. Turned into a lament. Shrank from the long, long, long rambling poem it started as. And finally got carved into these two smaller ones.
I doubt I got it right, but you have to start somewhere.
Have a good Fourth. It’s a great country, even when we struggle. I think I am going to see the Minions this afternoon, and laugh.