The
road here is always
the
same, unchanging,
the
same terrain, the same
people
traveling the road,
passing
the body on the side
of
the road, lifeless, or
nearly
so, we keep traveling
the
same road, we teachers,
we
priests, we who always
know
the right thing
to
say.
Photograph by Larisa Koshkina via Public
Domain Pictures. Used with permission.
7 comments:
Insightful, thought-provoking poem, Glynn! May God help us to keep our eyes open and senses keen - somewhere near Samaria or anywhere.
A good poem is one you read more than once. I read this one three times. Thank you for sharing it. God bless you and your writing.
So terrifical, Glynn. Your poem's ending caught me off-guard.
revive
love
with
mercy
lips
This is beautiful, Glynn! May the Lord open the eyes of our hearts so that we might truly see.
Blessings!
that sky and the golden grass really stuns that picture out. there are some puddles. the incline makes me think that there may be a canal on the other side.
the road of routine
is a circle
a well worn path
how well
the old horse knows
For some reason I was thinking about information as I read this, and couldn't help a remix:
The feed here is always
the same, unchanging,
the same campaigns, the same
people loading the same nodes,
posting like bullies, on the side
of a post, lifeless, or
nearly so, we keep scrolling
the same row, we feeders,
we priests, we who always
know the right like
to play.
Oh, this is good. So thought-provoking.
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