Musings In December: 2019 Poem by DM W

December: the seasonal snow is coming soon;
That's according to the latest weather forecast.
If that is the case then it's time to hibernate
And reflect perhaps on a strange, frantic decade.
O it seems that old certain symbols have now been
Discarded. Currently, obscure codes define us.
I think that there's a distinct poverty of language
And a general degradation in terms of art
And beauty. New neon signs, that have never been
Present previously, pervade the early part
Of this century. Instant communication
Is everywhere: at all times of the day and night.
Yet do we really find the time to engage in
Meaningful, in depth conversation anymore?
Do we listen attentively? Is anyone
Really moved by the warm presence of another?
It seems that many are constantly on the make.
There are more deceivers than enlightened healers.
I feel there are too many brash talkers and not
Enough genuine builders. It's rather tragic.
When the snow finally arrives, I'll close my blinds
And curtains, and pour myself a strong drink or two.
I shall raise a toast to grace, mercy and silence,
And shut myself away from the world from a while.