But as for me, Deare Lord
My house is a home for charity
That there is yet room in
My heart, for this raw beaten world
And enemies to befriend
And hope, to give away
As a beggar does something kind
For a little coin, I too pray
In my own kind of prayer
In my own variety of goodness
Like I trust all these beings
Who suffer like Buddhists together
And make up imaginary sin
For a bit of an excuse, to prostrate
Themselves against universal laws
For if we are all guilty of something
Where does our aptitude for judgement
Come from, our inability to forgive
Even the slightest of slights?
Our talent for animosity
Even when the entire world suffers
The same ills, like one village?
What is the need for war
So that a few might have a lot
While most have none and die
Without cause or rights of plenitude?
Why torment minorities, when they
Have less hope of a good life than us?
With the ascending there is the pull of the descending. Our talent for animosity and our talent for kindness and love wrestle endlessly. Beautifully crafted as always Wuji 🙂
my faith and cynicism are battling in this series 😛 *shrugs*
I can see that 🙂
Nothing to add – Faith is powerful!