For Ukraine
There’s a bear
in the field
of sunflowers
tearing through
those golden glories
simply because
it doesn’t want them
to shine
Sometimes
destruction
has no purpose
but destruction,
forcing beauty
into ruin,
and profaning
the sacred
The sacred is a gift
that small minds
and cold hearts
cannot find
in themselves,
and set out
to extinguish
in others
But no matter how many
flowers perish
in any season,
their seeds fall upon
the nourishing earth
and grow
and grow
and grow
(2/26/22)
I love this poem. We all hope that the madness i Ukraine stops now.
Thanks, Robert, I hope peace arises there too!