To See Ourselves in Others

 
To See Ourselves in Others
 
We humans have abilities, remarkable indeed,
And some are quite admirable—of thinking, word, and deed—
And others, though amajing, may leave us quite perplexed
And even, when encountered first, so maddeningly vexed
That only introspection might, in course of time, allow
An insight into origins—including why and how
Behaviors, strange, and attitudes emerged and then prevailed
That still persist, in most of us, that might appear derailed—
Divorced from justice, empathy—and even reason, sense—
Controlling much of how we feel and think and act. The whence 
And wherefore of this human world cannot, indeed, be known
Until we see and understand the things that we disown
In selves and those we see as ours, ascribing these to others
We see as simply alien, although they’re born of mothers
And like us, have emotions, thoughts, experience pain and pleasure,
And yet are seen as different, by every human measure.
 
To see ourselves in others, and others in ourselves
Is often sadly lacking, amidst our clans of elves
With all our seeming magic and all our scheming ways, 
And all our sights and blindnesses that guide us through our days.
 
2025 February 27, Thu.
Berkeley, California 
 

Orphan-2025-02-18

Orphan
 
I heard a distant wailing,
A moaning from afar.
I found an orphan crying,
Abandoned, in a war.

I found an orphan crying—
A little child, alone.
The sound was of a sobbing—
And then, at times, a moan.

I had heard a distant wailing,
A moaning from afar.
I had found an orphan crying, 
In the carnage of a war.

******

I went up to the orphan.
She looked at me in fright.
I bent to lift the orphan
As the daylight ebbed to night.

I lifted up that orphan.
I held her to my chest.
I saw her tears were shining
As the sunset lit the West.

I had found a little orphan
In the wreckage of a war.
I had found an orphan crying
In the madness of a war.

******

I looked for parents, siblings.
I found them, one by one.
A grandma lay there, dying.
Said, “Save the little one.”

I told her I would do that,
But did she understand?
She breathed her last and left us,
As I held her feeble hand.

******

How many little orphans?
How many children slain?
How many burned and crippled?
How many wracked with pain?

Whence—this cruel madness?
And why—these blinded hearts?
Go ask this, then, of “humans”,
As the light of life departs.

She once had loving parents—
But now was all alone.
Go ask them for the reason—
The ones whose hearts are stone.

******

I held that little orphan.
I held her to my chest.
I heard her growing quiet
As I walked towards the West.

I had found that little orphan,
Abandoned, in a war.
I saw a light was shining—
The brightening evening star.

I looked towards that planet
As it rose and shone above
The bodies, lying scattered,
That each was born of love.

2025 February 18, Tue.
Berkeley, California