Not Everyone
Not everyone seeks to praise the wounded world.
Some can only write in the alphabet of trauma
Until even beauty is a scar and a temporary comma
In a gush of grievances that would unnerve the Dali Lama.
But there are still things deserving of our praise.
You don’t have to ignore the gaze of suffering
To adore the butterfly fluttering in the garden.
And realize that you too are in need of a pardon.
(Originally published in The Beatnik Cowboy)
