This Mess, This Sickness.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

we went to the pond
on such a clear day

the pond reflects the
clouds and sky and
trees and faces of
the mountains

we bow down and take
a look at ourselves
our faces, now, all
looking the same in
the eyes of Narcissus.

we could not help but
smile to the beauties
on the pond, on such
a clear day as this:

this day of selfishness,
of self-centered-ness,
we are the suns and
all the planets revolve
around us, we never
see this as a kind of
mess, after all, in this
crisis, who would touch
and love, this sickness?