Chaotic Skies Poem by C Richard Miles

We walk the city streets beneath chaotic skies
And mindlessly we stride as if quite unaware
Of the impending menace, stark before our eyes,
Frenetic in its nature, cold as ice-sharp air,
Of damage to be done from rage-fuelled knives.
In these chaotic skies, though chaotic lives may intertwine,
Sheer randomness comingles with irrationality
Paraded as the trademark of chaotic times
And yet, within the chaos lie a million interstices
Like mild injection-points of kindness in disguise
To inoculate us all from those that harm our lives,
As tarnished humanity buffs its goodness up
With one last spit and polish to aid, to our surprise,
Our faltering faith in acts of altruistic nature.
For, if we concede that there is room beneath chaotic skies,
Then chaos may in turn, turn somersaults to make okays
Which knock out chaos, kayoed to a concrete yes.