Wednesday, April 9, 2014

To Stem the Tides

Sometimes the world is too much
For the likes of you and me,
Though I admire those who can breathe deep
And live large,
Who can attempt to stem the tides of outrage and sorrow,
The same tides that would surely
Sweep me out to sea.

No I need blinders. 
I need small sandcastles on the seashore where
I can only see the gloom in small doses,
(Even as sweet as Barbara Kingsolver may make it.) 
I need things doled out,
The tsunami cup by cup,
Ideas and goals and dreams
Are best ingested in doses simple and small (for small Paul). 
I need them to be beautiful and right.

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