Sunday, November 2, 2008

Reading the Paper

The terrible fascinates.
This reading of the paper trains my fear.
I can feel it.
I want to know the disaster even as I recoil.
I am not separate from the deaths, the demands,
and the dealings, the disasters, the deceits,
the demagogues, and the diplomats.

This is our incompleteness, our separation,
our greed at work. Let me own my part.
The world's hunger is mine.
The world's helplessness is mine.
The world's failure to love is mine.
Sober me to this connection in my life.
Let the news be printed on my conscience.
Help me bear it.

Gunilla Norris, "Being Home" p. 40


Sandy said...

I really like this woman's poetry that you have shared.

Jan said...

Thank you.