Stand up for the diminutives:
the fallen maple leaf, the ladybug,
the raindrop precarious
on the November branch.
Cultivate attention to the small.
Sing praise to all things domestic
and familiar, the smells of coffee,
of sliced white bread browning in a toaster,
the sound of Naomi's talkative birds
against the silent dawn.
Glorify the stooped Franciscan
telling his beads
amid the ruins of Roman pomp.
Offer your peace to the bitter,
those crazed by slogans and shouting.
Be a gentle champion
of the fleeting and precious smile.
Receive each stranger as a sacrament.
Go to places where people share stories
to fortify the wounded in their midst.
Have lunch with a friend,
don't count the calories.
Ride the bus and bask
in weary, wonderful humanity.
Read Wystan Auden's wise and cheerful poems.
Stop giving a rat's whisker
about The Important Issues Of The Day.
Embrace what you will never understand.
Get offline for more than an hour
and let your glad heart dance.
Say to yourself, This just might work.
And when it doesn't, try something else.
Keep your spirit supple and resilient
as the best poetry,
your eyes lively and shining as a cat's.
Move through frantic city streets,
a humble avatar of charity.
Marinate your heated nerves
in the cool climate of forgiveness.
Bless the wayward and the lame.
Spend affection recklessly.
Dismiss your quibbles and qualms.
Light candles of consolation
in the dark deep shrine of suffering.
Speak words that heal hurt souls.
And don't forget to keep up with the laundry.
Poetry by Thomas DeFreitas
Read 138 times
Written on 2018-01-30 at 05:49
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