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The World Spins

THE WORLD SPINS

The world spins.
Its downward spiral
distorts and disorients.

It’s contortions convulse
in the spasms of death throes.

Countries vie to be great again
yet cannot transcend their tribalism.

Fear seeks to squash anything.
Anything different.
Anything not understood.
Any perceived threat
whether real or not.

Blindly denying that we cannot be great on our own. Deafly plugging ears to cries begging for crumbs.

We refuse to acknowledge that we see further standing on shoulders.

Those who went before us have learned that we are stronger when bound together;
that many hearts carry grief that one alone cannot bear.

Why must we learn again?

Photographs weep remembering smiles of those pictured.
Buildings groan to music of parties past.
Streets lie quiet in dreams of the hustle and bustle of a time gone by.
Trees drop leaves like tears in the wind.
Green weeds adorn flower beds once alive with colour.

The seed of violence within each of us
is fed,
or starved.

The seed of love
moves toward light,
moves toward healing,
moves toward,
love.

Compassion, is it’s food;
empathy, it’s water;
kindness, it’s oxygen;
gentleness, it’s lifeblood.
Life is it’s child.

Our hearts must flower.
Blossoms,
or thorns.

Our choice.

Which will we feed?

About the Author
The Mustard Seed is the parish blog written by a group of our very own parishioners of St. Joseph Church.

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