Come now my reflection,

dirt on my feet from the accumulation of days.

In the past

I contested the straightening of drawers,

Folded articles of war and peace.

Now I understand the motive:

Order is needed to keep life flowing,

Evidence of smiles and tears left along the way.

Come now the present:

Drawers emptied,

Contents ready to be recycled.

Cycles, the movement of today and tomorrow:

Sorrow, delight, hope and flight.

Horizons no longer studded with birds,

Overfished oceans letting out a cry,

Oil more important than reef.

Who will care to listen?

imminent explosion,

sun burning through atmospheric hole.

The need to straighten up drawers persists.

I insist in wiping dust, in washing up the dishes until the soap

devours the last trace of hunger off the world.

Faces in the distance, growling stomachs,

Needy people in other lands,

hands reaching to the emptiness. Neglect.

I have no defense:

Guilt of polluting, of accumulating selfish clutter,

of killing fauna and flora.

I stand convicted for the pain I have inflicted

in the world around me.

Come now my plea:

Pen and paper out of the straightened drawer,

Words out of my soul:

Sentenced to take action,

My numbness I must let go.

 (11/14/08)