Bluster Too Poem by Lonnie Hicks

We live in times replete
where mere contentiousness
and peace
compete;
where the loving soul
hides
not knowing how to sing in the dark.

If the herd stampedes to some popular view
pause first
rather than follow
will blim and bluster shape the morrow?
Small things in years
will matter least.

Life is the shaping force;
the sculpting of character
where the difference is learned between
large and small matters;

let the small ones die
bury them
with a loving flower
and your hand will gain the golden touch
which plucks
and spreads
true happiness
and with it the seeds
of true peace
and incidentally
abandoned
blim
and bluster.