There is a need I see and
hurry to respond to before
calamity mounts and doubles the work.
You are driven by forces
different than mine and your gaze
dismisses the need I see.
Your eyes focus instead on another sight
which my eyes fail to see;
completely outside my frame of reference.
How is it our worlds differ so much
and yet are compatible enough
not to collide?
There is much to agree on;
much that has us separated,
yet even knowing this,
doubt makes us suspicious of others.
Worlds are born and remade by those like us.
We blur our edges to mesh smoothly.
We realize too late,
that in each head there is a world afloat
hoping for life everlasting.
Wars rage and people agitate
to fight ancient battles, to quiet ancient maladies,
but we are too old now, so pray,
they do not stir the ashes to bring forth another fire.
And on this we agree;
there are no more sons and daughters to spare.
Mothers and fathers are all cried out.