I understand nothing of your grief and pain
There is nothing I judge equal that I call my own
No stand to take or ground to gain
Your sad song wails over the voices of the joyous
Drowning out so much of the quiet pleasant music
That wraps itself around the world unknown to most
So much chatter of what is missing or not possessed
Lonely hearts and half empty shopping carts
Wandering through the Wal-Mart past midnight
Beneath the smiley faces and fluorescent light
There is beauty in the spaces in between
Seen only by actually looking
Never does it preen
Call out for attention
Seeking condolences or complimentary mentions
The moments existing within themselves only
Devoid of all of the trappings of
Of society and camaraderie
The strings and sinews of you and me
In the night I hear the yells and howls
Like bird calls trying to draw meaning
Out of the cool chill of the sky
Nothing comes forth and the dark spirits
Settle in denying this and that and filling
The gaps with questions and doubts
Hope is the worst thing that came out of the box
It is that which breaks us first not sticks and rocks
So much work so little reward given
For all the devotion to the libraries of ideas
That consumes and dooms us
The song sings to you now if you can pause to hear it
Gentle strings and the Zen beat which is always there
It all lies in the elimination of the white noise
So then the white noise can truly be heard
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
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