
Once there was
Absence
Now screens rain
Abundance
What will become
of these rivers
whose content spills
Flooding every field
With Poetry?
Once there was
Absence
Now screens rain
Abundance
What will become
of these rivers
whose content spills
Flooding every field
With Poetry?
More Art, less
More Music, less
More Love, less
More Laughter, less
More Generosity, less
More Compassion, less
More Understanding, less
More Curiosity, less
More Peace, less
More Cooperation, less
More Kindness, less
More Listening, less
More Gratitude, less
More Respect, less
More Friendship, less
More Hope, less
More Consideration, less
More Joy, less
More Courage, less
More Welcoming,
More Light, less
More Discourse, less
More Truth, less
More Life, less
More Sharing, less
More Hello, less…
He is right.
Again
When they return
from their journey
the flowers
so fresh so fragrant so vibrant
when she bought them
discounted
one day before they left—
Now he reminds her of
her folly.
There he says
Your flowers are withered
Your money wasted
Your flowers dead.
She stands next
to the table silent
Then takes all but one of her flowers away
Yes you are right, just this one remains
But better flowers
were present at all
Better with flowers around
even if only for a single
colourful fresh fragrant vibrant day
I will remember their presence well
for beauty lingers
and even when this last one fades
beauty taken in never goes away.