Corona Senryu IV

Having lived through wars,
Old man with no mask shopping:
Unafraid to die.

Corona Haiku X

In the pandemic,
A puppy chasing a ball -
Joy undiminished.

Dissent

If a nation
Founded on the ideal - the sublime appeal -
Of individual liberty, should shine and not
Vanish from the earth,
Then at its hour of birth, the nation should relent,
That seeds of liberty must also sprout dissent.

And, if in that shout of contradiction,
Should be raised a moral vision
To shake our institutions
At their innermost foundations,
Then should we recall
That dissent seeks to forestall the fall
Of those dear and cherished freedoms.

A far cry from the critic
Who would redesign our structures
Is the nihilist who furthers
A complete and utter rupture -
That ideological arsonist
Who would burn the entire edifice
Of our popular democracy.

Therefore let us pray we don't confuse,
Confound, misunderstand.
The dissenter who may take a stand
Against popular but harsh opinion
Is no demagogue's minion.
The nation cannot find its way
If dissenters face our wrath.
They struggle in their way to say
That we stray off our rightful path.

Hunger

When we were young upon the earth,
We did not understand the stars –
So many eyes of the gods upon us.

We did not understand the thunder and rain –

So many gods howling their disdain.

But we understood hunger.

And pain.

We were bound together

To seek our sustenance.
So over hills and plains we ranged.

In the time since,

Not much has changed.
Spears gave way to guns.
Stones gave way to mortgages.
Shopping replaced the hunt,
With prey replaced by wages.

Locked together in a barrel bobbing out to sea,

We don’t know if there is food for you or me.
We stare at the foul and fruit upon the table
And ask, “From what ranch, garden, or stable?”

Fish as alien as the stars,

Beef mysterious as the rain,
Sweets that startle as the clap of thunder –
Our ignorance remains.

Children

The birds,
so colorful,
so unselfconscious,
in their gilded cage
with the leaves,
and the seeds,
and the water,
and their little swings.

But then you approach
and it's as if Teacher
has returned to the classroom:
no more twittering, or rummaging;
all stand at attention,
eyeing you this way and that.

What do they see in you?
A vast and towering force,
with a voice like a song of thunder -
Destroyer of Worlds;
you who with your love level the hills
with your gilded cities of ingenuity.

It is the Hand of God
that replenishes their water dish
and their seed dish.

And when you leave,
the little birds resume
their antics, lilting, pecking,
and so they do not see
that the gods, too, fuss and play
in their gilded cage.