Fearless Reason

Fearless reason in an age of frightened absurdity.

Were That I a Cup

A full cup
cannot be filled
possessed already
of all it can retain.

Add liquid
and it will
overflow.

Filled now
with an admixture
of old and new.

Yet appearing
as it always has
filled
and satisfied.

Were that I a cup
forever full
overfilled
an admixture
of old and new.

Concealing
the mystery
of fulfillment.

Full
to overflowing
satisfied
yet ever changing.

 

 

 

To Become an Exile

I feel a pull
inward
to become an exile.

To withdraw
from a public
that has become
sacrilege to my private values.

I am bewildered
that the worst in us
has become commonplace.

I am a foreigner
in my land
a place
where hate is more desirable than love
fear more tolerable than acceptance
and ignorance more comfort than truth.

I do not know these neighbors and friends
that I once assumed shared a common decency.

A decency now uncommon
as the worst in us
becomes middling.

I have become
a stranger
inĀ  a strange land
that has lost the capacity
for self-preservation.