Hear the echo of the river’s voice
reflected within the heron’s vision.
Listen to the muttering gossip and
discord of ducks, gripes of geese.
Strain the strain, squeaky serenade
of smaller lives under the grasses.
All these and more circumnavigate
the globe in an amalgam of breath;
as each and every breath breathed.
Who or what do you admire, love?
Who, what do you denigrate, hate?
Would it help, harm us to share air
from either, past filling our lungs?
When some of us believe we have
started to shed our prejudice, fear.
Others would bring us back before
here. Clutch and grasp our futures,
as they scurry beneath their stones.
Thus, to drag us under with them.
On the Lookout ~ Philip Brent Harris
On the Lookout ~ Philip Brent Harris
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