All I Can Do Is Make Tea

This roibos cup my daughter calls bleeding tea

The blossom of red taint swirls cloudlike

On the box it’s name Tropical Escape

I am jittery and I hope it calms me down

Bu the worry I have is like a cat in a bag

Should I or shouldn’t I taunts the refrain

For like a wild cat, must true only

Revealed only to the ardent searcher

Or, to one who lives long enough to tell the tale

In Egypt the Muslim fundamentalists

Are murdering the best and brightest writers

In the name of what good God is this done?

That other name again, Tropical Escape

Soothes my stomach and tastes great

While across the sea an ethnic cleansing

Forces other helpless ones onto the blade

How unimportant feels my life

How confused I act about my own prupose

For fear of mortal embarrassment

I hide

But I will lay this out in plain sight

In God’s good name we can no longer fight

In a world where great religions lack spirituality

Great change may come when everyone

Lays down beside still waters and unclothes their heart

One thought on “All I Can Do Is Make Tea

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