A Country Rag

Little Gifts

You're right.
Humanity's depressing --
the ways we maim, starve and abuse each other,
the disappointments we inflict,
the calls and challenges
we can't meet.
Who would choose humanity,
not opt to be divine instead?
Angels -- out of our bodies,
imperfect and decaying.
Gone from this earth,
paling in beauty, unlovely,
failing daily, every second,
in goodness.
Vicious, cruel,
carelessly random in tenderness and love.
Setting us up for a
kick to the stomach,
a blast to the heart,
just when we're relaxed --
happy, defenseless.
Would a thoughtful soul
choose to be here?
Impossible. Absurd.
All we can do,
caught in the world,
is give little gifts,
charms of kindness and hope,
brushing the darkness back
as well as we're able.
All we can do
is offer a path
from the glimmer of light
we find at our core
and hold it out
to a friend.