After Jose Padua
As the four riders of the apocalypse thunder past
and the world teeters on its axis, I look up to see
a gallop of clouds turning peach, watch the sky’s
evening benediction as the clouds change shape
and colour, as the day ticks inexorably by with its
seepage of light, and I note the stirring in the air
as neither warning nor blessing, but its own
absorption in the moment, contained, perfect,
inviolate, removed from the deeds and misdeeds
of men, so that even as I wonder, confused,
uncomprehending, at the seventy million minds
caught in the delusions of a petulant, divisive man,
at how so many have fallen in thrall to a despot
and are willing to vote for chaos, for vitriol ahead
of decency, and as I grieve for the terrible brokenness
of the polity, I understand that we haven’t yet written
on tomorrow’s page, and that it is coming, a gift
yet to be unwrapped, for us to make of it what we will.
David Adès was born in Adelaide, Australia of Egyptian Jewish parents. His books include Afloat in Light (UWAP Poetry, 2017).
Copyright 2020 David Adès
Thank you for the hope this inspires.
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