The older I get the harder it is to hold onto that glowing thread of hope. As I look around at the world today and see a glimpse of a very disturbing horizon, my thoughts turn to a little verse I penned at the time of the Western Imperialist's illegal destruction of Iraq.
Sadly that brutal planned destruction still runs amok across a far greater region then when it started. The deaths still mount up and the suffering multiplies, with little sign of it ending.
Winter.
Dark malefic clouds crowd the sky
winds carry the stench of carrion to every nostril,
the crazy ape has followed the faculty of hawks.
All around stand crows, magpies, jackdaws, vultures,
edacious eyes anticipating their putrid feast.
A weary Cassandra laments;
doves, hearts weeping for a better yesterday
forsake their olive branches.
Photo courtesy of DAWN, Vulture Preservation Project.
No offence intended towards the real vultures, they do a wonderful job.
I'm sure there will always be some human act that will keep that state of mind where, "Hope springs eternal".
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