Kindness Poem by James Lee Jobe

Six days till Solstice, and in the news there is nothing about kindness;
The war machinery grinds away, lives in the balance teeter and shake,
And far away the soft river sand shifts under the weight of my hooves.

Ghandi walked forever and a day for salt; well, salt, yes, but something
Else, a lesson about kindness that danced over the heads of most,
The dry-haired masses only gathered to call out, 'More! More! '

My cat killed many mice, it's true, but some she let go, ignored, just
Watched while they escaped like the flatulence of the terrified. She could
Easily have slain them all; perhaps she was just exercising some kindness.

My father-in-law is 103. At dinner, his hand shaking, he will reach across
The table with trembling chopsticks to pass someone a tidbit, tasty,
Something he knows is wonderful and gives away out of kindness.


Who are you now, James? Where are the dreams of so many years ago?
At Solstice the world changes; Summer, and the Sun grows weaker, more so

Everyday, and slowly the air cools in the wake of the Sun's kindness.