for fathers

I stand amidst the crowd vying for my space,

I fight to keep its rhythms, swaying in my place.

We struggle to gain glimpses from the spectacle of the day

A view of endless fighting, for which we daily pay.

How strange we must seem to birds overhead.

We gathering in chaos; upon one another we tread.

How we struggle to view the struggle, an image of ourselves

Denying the pain we cause, a story we scarcely tell.

I leave behind my children, to the safety of our home.

Their hungry eyes in windows, like fearful little gnomes.

How will I teach them to choose their words, swaying with the crowd

yet taking care not to lose themselves, remaining forever proud.

Study and perceive the mob, swaying to and fro

some rise some fall within the mob, these things you must know

Guard your mind from the hypnotic rhythm that turns an eye to glass.

shiny orbs believing lies, blind to shadows that pass.

I daily pray my soul gains strength to shield my curious mind

that I might better sift the truth from the many lies I find.

I search the heavens for mercy.  My poor unworthy soul.

While lo I see the pain of others, broken by the toll.

I count the crushed and battered lives beneath the rhythmic feet.

while bracing my heart against the heaves to an evil unheard beat.

I clench my fists with anger and hide them behind my smile.

Not knowing where to strike, I must use, instead, my wiles.

I pray one day I see that path the righteous man must take.

The way amidst the crowd is blurred by the mob's incessant wake.

I fix my eyes to pierce the gloom and reveal the distant glow

of a savior's lamp that shines in me, that I must boldly show.

My hunger grows for the daily bread

that I must use or my soul lose

to the mob whose heart is dead.

By JAPOC

Featured in Becoming JAPOC