What we call civilization
in this world
is only a mask.
Paper thin, veiling
barely
what is beneath.

This world is built
on contrasts.
The stock market rise
and the crash.
The peaceful ocean’s waves,
and the tsunami.
The growth of an empire
and its fall.

That which is suppressed
will always surface again
violently
because this world is also
built on violence.
It is in the very nature of life
to destroy.

But this world is also
not all there is.

Dear one,
after so long of trying
to play a game with rigged rules,
don’t you think it’s time
to seek another option?

Choose instead
the still small voice
that whispers joy.
The voice that says
that all are one.

If that makes no sense,
feel free to keep trying
to reorganize this world
though all attempts
are taking one grain of sand from a beach
and moving it to the ideal spot
while disturbing millions of others.

But why listen to me
when I’m just
a cheeky poet?

(c) 2018, Michael Anuszkiewicz