evening prayer
the world is quiet in our town
the moon shines through clouds
as if God is under the covers
reading with a flashlight
I can hear no bombs
or see any tracer rockets
no buildings are burning
no one has to hide to be safe
I have done nothing to earn
this quiet peaceful night
that I am here and not there
is an accident of lineage
perhaps of privilege
is a better way to say it
so I pray for the Ukrainians
as if it makes a difference
but the longer this goes on
I feel my prayers expand
to wish our leaders had
Zelenskyy’s courage
I don’t have much hope
that prayer will be answered
then I feel my anger rise to
say I wish Putin would die
I would rather him die
than those who were doing
nothing more than living
when the bombs hit
the world is quiet in our town
and I am sad and angry and
bitter and disappointed
in our leaders, our country
we need to do more than
wait till things are over so
we can build a memorial
that God can read in the dark
Peace,
Milton
Thanks for this, Milton. My anger toward Putin is palpable. Your words, even when angry and bitter, always soothe.
Your thoughts express the feelings I have about Ukraine. Thank you.
Milton, I love-love-love this…….. will share it with my family.
Milton, I sent this to my smart. wise, insightful sister and she replied: This poem is brilliant.
Milton is so honest. He is earthy. He paints with words. He eloquently shares his pain and shines a light onto the wholy human dark emotions that we like to hide or deny such as confusion, sadness, rage, desperation, hopelessness, grief, and aloneness.