Indulging in peace and happiness,

I think of those made homeless and destitute,

their homelands smashed and ruined

        devastated by the flames of war,

forfeiting the chance to meet with what is loved.

        Even life itself, so easily stripped away.


Accustomed to calm and comfortable circles

I recall how the disorders of society

        have their source in the jostling struggles of financiers,

        in government corruption and incompetence.

The evolution of various kinds of hierarchical prejudice,

        the bullying of superiors

they lead to a chaos of values —

        and human life loses its order,

        we are at a loss what to do.


The passage of time — is it fair?


Whoever forcibly takes hold of the production of discourse.


Whoever rigidly constrains what is defined as truth.


Thinking, analysing — doing all I can

        to pierce the masks of evil falsehoods

is it possible there might only remain

        unsolvable murmurings and twitters, pale and vacuous,

just as one gives up in despair on the damage done

        to springs and the soil, 

so hideously polluted,

        that they are hard to salvage or to save.


Bearing up the darkness, weak and passive,

        ash corrupting, ash extinguishing, ash flying,

        ash darkening, ash sinking, ash embittering,


enduring the suffering, we set out,

        turn our faces towards a thread,

        a sliver of the possibility of sublimation —

        still there within our nature,

        as subtle as the faintest glimmer.

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