Complaining about the drought won’t make it rain, only flood
And building an ark now won’t help float the argument we make
Our blessings are numbered from the start to finish
And yet we waste them one by one
On the silliest things imaginable because we are so hedonistic in our narcissism
Of pursuing only the flowers and the sweets for ourselves
While giving thorn to the stems of weeds and tartness to the dark bitter chocolate
That we begrudgingly bequeath to others less fortunate
For less we forget the earth will be washed clean and our lives be judged
By how many toads we kiss….
2007 © T Sheridan
That we begrudgingly bequeath to others less fortunate For less we forget the earth will be washed clean and our lives be judged By how many toads we kiss YOU HAVE GONE BEYOND THE REALM OF POETIC SURREALISM..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
My mother used to tell me that one has to kiss a lot of frogs before finding the prince. Prince, priceless, that sort of thing.... you are. t x