Tom with kids in Kuwait

Tom with kids in Kuwait
Tom with kids in Kuwait

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Death of an old friend

The time of death was unknown
Sometime in recent years I think.
Her passing was of little note,
And caused not a tear to fall or eye to blink.

Some do not even know she passed.
Life without her is all they have known.
As for bitterness this year has surpassed
Last year’s vitriolic harvest that was sown.

And now with elections drawing near,
And party faithful filled with spite and wrath.
It seems the one we once held dear,
Is covered amidst hate’s aftermath.

Those who never knew her are not to blame,
Though within us all is surely a spark.
That says let’s choose not to spread disdain,
And to live in light and not advance the dark.

But some of us knew her and knew her well,
Enjoying her company with those whom we differed.
Talking and listening and not trying to sell,
A discourse of hate that a few had proffered.

There are truly no clean hands in this matter.
Our self-righteousness has trumped our reason.
We sling hateful words making venomous clatter.
Surely godlessness and hate are in season.

But I remember a time when I could stand my ground,
And my beliefs were mine to uphold.
And I could listen to you without running you down.
And with integrity each point was re-told.

Without twist or spin or sleight of hand tricks,
I understood your position though I might not affix,
My endorsement or vote and would stick to my picks.
But your opinions I valued as I reviewed the mix.

But to defame you because your thoughts were different from mine,
Was not part of who we were, but that’s not true of this time.
For to think for yourself has now become crime.
We must buy into and swallow some party line.

And we condemn without thinking that those we offend,
They also have values they wish to defend.
And in the course of such acrimony one day we will rend,
And turn on our own as if they had sinned.

For vitriol and acrimony take on lives of their own,
Hardened hearts and hatred are not seeds we wish sown.
But these are the days that lie ahead you see,
Since the passing of the Lady we once called Civility.

May she not rest in peace but come back with as a storm,
That lets us think differently but with hearts that are warm.
And value our neighbor so much more than before.
That we value each other though some thoughts we abhore.

For I cannot hear you when you disparage my name.
I’m guessing you don’t like it when your cause I defame.
Are we not people of hope who may one day reclaim,
The art of Civility and may she once again reign.

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