Compassion

IMG_1270_top

If you can remember lines
I will listen to you.
If you can mention me
in them I will trade my
emptiness for trust.
If your sacred rituals
can sing and rattle
my dreams, I will
move on with living
here in the land
of misunderstanding
that we have inherited.

Hamlet, Jesus–the
old requests to
never be forgotten–
with the guards changing,
with the new dawns,
the loose-fitting coffins–
we live just so we
may remember the
important day when
we were not here,
which is more like
imagination than
worship, which is
okay to mention.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s