Two Voices Poem by Daniel Trevelyn Joseph

Stray dog, black tall and big,
Walks in front, turns to look:
I see the red, raw wound
On its left eye,
He has no complaint, almost majestic.
I feel “Thank God,
I wouldn’t have been able to take it.”

I think simultaneously
How existence can
Have this treatment
Meted out to him,
No fairness, or what?
But bending my mental knees
I do not presume to proceed.

Seeds of unhappiness,
And of happiness
Are sown the moment
We start comparing.....
And yet, ‘progress’ requires it
But do we want that
At the cost of going up and down?