Creative Centrality

I am upset by shouting matches
Between those who place themselves at Poles Apart
I am upset too when the shouters shout at me
For seeking the Peace between
Their strident voices

I have dwelt here all my life
Yearning for the lull between storms
To calm my agitation
Roused by the sound of distant guns
Roaring their mutual disapproval
And disapproval of me
Caught in their cross-fire

In desperation I raise my voice to shouting pitch
To call a stop to all this rot
Only to find my voice ignored
Or treated with disdain

Which makes me sad
And feeling foolish
For even trying to bring those Poles Apart
Into welcome confluence

In sorrow I seek solace
Far from this madding crowd
Where humans have not yet quite spoiled
The wildness of undomesticated life

For here amongst the dripping freshness
And sounds of singing through the trees
And smells of rotting leaves and wood
And colours bright and muted
And silent stillness of untroubled air –

My heart can open wide and unafraid
Of Gods’ and human judgements
Uncaring for what I care so much for
In this Centre Ground

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