Sunday, March 10, 2013

by their fruit

a mother and child at the bus stop,
a man looks at his watch and adjusts his coat,
a man pushes a cart full of bags of collected cans,
a raven is perched on top of a street light,
a boy paints a landscape,
a girl is hounded by bullies,
snow melts to water,
costumed actors count votes for the person to be deified,
votes come in for the human to be deified,
a man lies with the sickness,
a woman undergoes the treatment,
chemicals course through a child's veins,
a trial by fire,
a ritual of purification,
heads bow outside the sepulcher,
the censer swings,
the prayer wheel spins,
objective gods,
subjective gods,
I reflect on the idea,
that brought me to the action,
that brought me to the fruit of my labour,
form and emptiness,
emptiness and form,
the good,
the beautiful,
the true,
but the lies lie at the bottom of the mountain,
where we must begin,
where we must try to help one another,
where we must try to help Sisyphus too.

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