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Ode of Transit | Poem

 
 

ODE OF TRANSIT


 
 
Ah yes! Desire and habit:
In good times, you can live by these
And pay attention to whatever
Catches your attention, even to what
You feel like paying attention to.

When what you see of the world
And what you do to sustain survival
Diverge too far, too much, for too many,
This describes a world in decay,
Overripe, ready to compost the next.

In stable times, vital or decadent alike,
To see may be a luxury,
Fulfillment of the soul, but something
Most can live without. In dislocated times,
To see may become the means to survive.

Of course, it's not a magic wand.
Just, percentages shift. To indulge oblivion
Works less well; to pay attention matters
More, just when what there is to see
Becomes so disconcerting many prefer not.

But those who have seen: into the abyss,
And something Beyond, know that panic doesn't
Work, while one cannot unsee. Personal need
Gives practice seeing, but who has such
Personal need more than wounded souls?

But again: But dislocated times cannot
Afford to indulge craziness any more than
Any other indulgence. Paradox on paradox
In a time-stranded world where it might
Matter to see the appalling sane.
 

- Uncle River

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