Victory Number 360(2021)

I decide to get up, despite
the mental miasma,
the obdurate inner chatter:

Mass extinction.
Global warming.
The pandemic.

Everyone who died;
everyone who will.
Everyone.
.
How, neatly named and
categorized, we proceed
to hate each other.

Though you did treat
me horribly. I deserved
so much better.

The cat yawns, stretches.
This again. She is thinking
pocket gophers, mice,

the new day’s possibilities.
Yesterday, my little white hen
laid an early egg, pledging

her allegiance to spring
from winter’s bleak belly.

Everything is burning,
said the Buddha.

And still this day,
not yet consumed;

what may rise
from its ashes.

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Tags: Buddhism, cats, chickens, creative writing, despair, fortitude, humor, optimism, poem, poetry, resilience, spirituality