Who isn’t wounded and disillusioned
by the drama, craves sweetened milk
not disdain, disinterest, the broadcasts
oozing like a sow’s teats,
near truths, and those not close
some hear long enough
to believe its true.
But I want you well.
I want to understand. Start a new channel.
Fact, Dolly donated a million to vaccinate
us, didn’t forget dirt poor, nothing running
inside the one-room cabin but a dozen kids.
This November a Canadian drove a cold, stranded family
a thousand miles to Alaska. A couple canceled
their covid wedding, catered a Thanksgiving
for the needy instead.
We had a Beaver Full Moon,
when a New Zealand couple turned
down millions to give their land to the country.
A Mom waiting in line, paid for many strangers’
groceries. Millions made at an auction for children
of First Responders, a chef gave a million to the hungry,
and every planet was visible.
Kids took brain breaks in mindfulness.
A man became rich when a meteorite crashed
through his roof. His wish for the funds:
to have a daughter.
Be choosey about what you take in,
a teacher once told me. . Filter the news,
let it flavor your milk with vanilla,
and cinnamon. Assimilate it together.
To the millions who thought differently this month
I remember Gandhi had a wayward son
he fasted to bring home.
Today a woman embraced
the son she placed for adoption
forty-five years ago. It takes time.
To the millions, I’m here, waiting.
I want to understand.