Murmurs in Dark Times

Fear and anger, Hate’s Ravens, stalk the street
drown our senses with harsh discordant chords.
We dance to a slow, dissonant back beat
the dark rhythm of the nine of swords.
Poverty is shame. Indifference eats
at the table of compassion.  We move
backwards in a series of small defeats
caught in a twisted and broken groove.

But some small disobediences occur;
a song, a word, a dream, a connection
murmurs of hope and love behind the door.
I will say enough. Another card is drawn.
Poets sing, the dancers break and reform,
light shines through. Hand in hand life spirals on.


The old saying it’s an ill wind …. True! I’ve been feeling bleak and sad about where the world is headed but at the end of the day it focussed my mind on the fact that poetry, music and art are the answer to most problems.


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