We live among global crises
When anything can happen at any time.
Our shelter structures shake
Our foundations falter and fall
And we lack certainty about everything.
The media, as a global mirror,
With alternative facts and truths,
And its portrayal of ugliness as the norm
Persistently drives out beauty and gentleness.
And when the madman shouts in the streets
And no-one bothers to stop to answer him,
Almost inevitably his thesis becomes incontrovertible.
Eventually, our minds become coarse and dull,
As we become estranged
From images and thoughts of radiance and beauty.
If we are not careful, the consequence may be
That we play with the animal inside of us
Until we become wholly animal,
And we play with falsehood
Until we lose the right to truth.
In this world of vulnerability
We stand at a precarious threshold.
We need to listen to the voice within us,
For, when we do so faithfully,
We can then, more clearly,
Hear what is the noise outside.
Perhaps we might internalise Yeats -
“When my arms wrap around you
I press my heart upon the loveliness
That has long faded from the world.”