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Families

those day-in day-out people

with whom

we share our daily bread

to whom

we trust our sleeping hours

from whom

we seek support

believing their words and motives

 

a group of persons

in a pod of inter-dependence

personal value measured

in relation to the unit

employing social arts

deploying survival skills

not much different

from a basic animal pack

 

for children

birth is a family lottery

choice not an option -

dictated by blood-lines -

adjudicated by governance -

or effected by erratic bonding

in the jowls of war 

or the bowels of poverty

 

life can be callous

where concepts of right and wrong

by diverse definition

are wrung into colourless grey

where the simple trumps the mighty

in the survival of sanity

for feet will follow bread and shelter

and hearts adore the promise of peace

 

if sanity falters

the person it fails

will fracture that connection

and seek another group bond

to cope with social living

in a shrinking world -

a universal effect

from forever

 

in our current democratic dream

of social responsibility

human relationships

locally, nationally and globally

are severely tested

by the lure of Entitlement -

a Pandora's Box of worldly woes

as ever such existed.

 

 

 

 

Cynthia Buell Thomas

◄ My Father's Pipe (following Ian's blog)

Magpies ►

Comments

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Thu 11th Aug 2016 12:19

This is a re-post.

I later realised this poem had virtually evolved into 8-line stanzas without any conscious direction. So I made a minor alteration to 'finish' the page presentation, and I've re-posted it. And I hope, without offence to anyone.

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