Poetry – Page 73 – Picking Up Roots

Distraction

how can we be peace
in a world intent on noise,
a world that leaves us
so hungry for distraction
this chaos becomes real;

how will we know reality,
how will we find calm
amongst these waves;
have we accepted
this new existence
of constant motion
as our preferred reality;

do we remember
what we are missing -
if we did,
would we care -

where is the heart,
what is left of our soul,
are we bankrupted;
have we sacrificed our lives
beyond the noise
to empty distraction

Heroes

whose example
has informed your life;
who have you imitated -
for good or bad -
who has made a lasting impression;
who showed you the way,
right from wrong;
at whose alter
have you worshipped;

where are you now,
have you chosen your heroes with care

Surroundings

the softest pink-gray clouds
stretch across a pale blue sky;
they drift slow
into oncoming night;

below, we are an army
of harsh light and rolling wheels
littered across an artificial backdrop
in a hurry to move on -
to get where we are going -
to the place we want to be;

in our hurry
we miss much of the world,
so vast and mysterious,
if we were paying attention
we wouldn't have time to see it all;

we owe it to ourselves
to stop looking elsewhere,
to open our eyes 
to all that surrounds,
to let it's beauty touch us,
and let us know
we are where we belong