I'm often angry

at ghosts of the past,
anxious about threats

that the future never brings,
very much out of place

in the precarious, precious present.

I get frantic, fretful.
shake my fist at the heavens,
get sick of the injustice of it all.

But there are moments:

private moments far from the crowd,
silent moments amid the crowd,
clear-hearted, clear-sighted moments,
moments of peace when I can recall
the many gifts I've been given,

the thousand and one palpable graces,

life, limb, food, drink, friend, kin, air, sleep,

a roof against the rain, neighbourly neighbours,

the morning cup of coffee,

when I can be thankful,

trusting that Compassion

renews itself each day.

Poetry by Thomas DeFreitas The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2018-02-28 at 08:34

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I have been reading this over and over again, and I must say that I am profoundly impressed by the positive message the poem conveys to its readers. In a time that has been baffled by negativity and hatred, one hardly gets a chance to read the hopeful stuffs. Good work, Tom. :)


Ashe The PoetBay support member heart!
Not too bad, Thomas, to go from the fury of incertitude and despair to the reality of the blessings we have and take for granted. Excellent!