Growing Pains

deeply, we breathe in the stench

of barely oxygenated air that swirls

about the dark holes in the ozone

not a chamber of horrors yet

wind down our windpipes

to claim compassion, never imagine hope,

because our humanity is in dregs

of madmen, of the doubtful cynics

who want all they can have without

caring for those who crawl on their stomachs

pulling themselves along, to look

for greater creativity, greater longevity

as if all of their life hangs by a thread

and nowhere in their fretful minds

is the fresh breeze to blow the ugliness away

where do we find the fortitude to give rebirth

where do we get to wash away the oily grit

of yesterday’s murders and assassins’ bullets

come clean to relieve the pain as we step

casually forward into a new epoch of light

because not to do so is to disrespect

the growing pains