How can I convey the heartbreak
of something already so obvious?
If this does not move us by now,
then what will it take?
If this does not yet disturb us,
how can words on a page agitate?
I can see at a glance
my fellow humans
suffering deeply,
hiding deeper.
If I want to find God,
I’ll have to dig down
further still.
Perhaps even he can be found
in all of this hell?
We’re trying to live well,
yet it looks like
we’ve done a bad job.
Are we so tired of life
so soon?
Perhaps we’ve walked
more than we think.
Or maybe we lack the requisite
vigour for living.


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