World Full Of Omens

On a whim sprung out of nowhere
I begin to worship the crucified.
Not just the Christ, but anyone
who has suffered great torment.

Maybe it is not worship, but
a feeling of kinship
in the search for honor codes
that people strive to live by.

I guess I should include the monk
of that famous self-immolation video
from June of sixty-three
whose sacrifice was not honored.

Maybe it is to appreciate directly
through simple acknowledgement
all the acts of kindness I observe
each day

and how no one asked permission
or weighed whether it was a selfless act
or a calculated one on the learning curve
to prepare the soul for crossing over.

This trying to find words for a feeling
drives me a bit crazy—
like trying to ignore the monsters
emerging from my personal history.


copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney

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