In another part of the world,
a mother laments her children's
non-future in a country where
food is scarce, where there's a dragon
who, unable to kill what it fears,
growls louder, breathes its fiery hate
even stronger, killing more.
She is grateful for some food today.
Here I plan the expected feast,
celebration for my country's abundance.
A tinge of regretful guilt crosses my mind,
as it wallows in helplessness.
Questions of "why" remain unanswered.
For some reason she is there and I am here.
I'm aware of her suffering.
Don't know if she's aware of my relative wealth,
or that suffering makes no class distinctions.
I hope she is rich in ways I do not see.
My country celebrates Thanksgiving once a year.
For me and many, it's a daily practice.
Today, I'm grateful for the Internet,
for exposure to this woman's pain,
which I embrace as part of me.
Maybe love helps
to pacify the dragon.
(For Poets United.)