What Is Man's Solution? Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Symbols sprawled across the sheet outlive grief,
meditate upon Time, Time the thief,
that eternal Robin Hood, hoodwinking
some, at others, delusively winking
for a while untll due retribution
is meted out. What is man’s solution?
On a global scale, redistribution
shuffles cards so every generation
may try new hand at self-regeneration.

The cards of Fate, like those of day and night,
the glad, the gay, the sombre and the bright,
dealt by a jester as and when it suits.
Just or unjust call trumps, and, then, life loots.
The knave soon knows the spade, inters the heart,
yet still would seek a kingdom set apart,
and still would eat the icing on the cake
and dream that fears are past, - yet fears to wake.

Hope springs a moment like a tiny life
in Spring, in love with love, in the belief
that life’s eternal, had for just the thinking,
as real as sandy Spanish castles, sinking.
There’s little space for stale circumlocution
when ozone levels fall. Worldwide pollution
spreads before man’s final execution.
One needs a sense of timely observation
unbiased to ‘un-earth’ an explanation.