don’t speak, listen—
but hear forgotten realms beyond your ears

it is so easy to be comfortably compressed
in the suffocating sphincters of shifty spin
drawn through spooky extruders of lies
where abrasive fears glaze eroding walls
of loud—claustrophobic echo chambers
wired in smooth bloviating news anchors
quarreling each other’s divisive opinion
with rewarded pundits or vulgar politicos
wanting you to let them do your thinking
by offering up pleasures of a nefarious fix
but such false prophets of doom foment hate
then monetize your dark agonizing anxiety

our hearts easily break and cement as stone
if we fail to find lights within all creation
painting God’s gentle gifts of serene mercy
and flowing graces in masses of goodness
born inside miracles of natural beauty and
carved by authentic and generous people
where the vast unsung majority stand kind
and curve in your humble spirit of peace
for truth never stalks talk shows or ratings
it cares for you, your family, and the earth
because all are shared and devoted friends
hoping for a pure love that endures forever

if you become lodged in cracks of despair
learn to listen to your quiet spirit’s guide
and it will bind you to a warmer paradise