Joy

Joy

A seed sprouts, lifts its head to greet
the world and in return, the world
ignores it - yet its smile still grows.
A world that must recycle life
can't worry about a minor
portion of itself - still, the seed
keeps smiling as it continues
to grow distorted and hungry.

The clouds look down, but they don't cry -
they retreated when hatred grew
on a dying land, too arid
to feed one that's hungry for life.
Sun and moon shine out of routine -
dry-eyed, without remorse or care,
they look away, as the problem
belongs not to them, but the world.

The seedling dies without a drop
of water while the earth rotates
to another day and the next,
recycles dust over the land.
The joy that should have been is now
a memory harvested by
the wind - taking it to where peace
will be found in forgotten bliss.

Patricia Carragon
Brooklyn, NY
American Red Cross