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Disaster
When disaster human race tears
asunder,
Response a range from selfless rendering to plunder.
Outstretched hand a gift greater to helper than to helped,
Plunderer a taker, and when withheld no lasting comfort
brings the spoil,
But he who takes to give survival to sufferer, how justified
his toil.
The child in all sees beauty, and spontaneous help regards
as fact,
But the child in us we lose, and with rational thought we
act,
Weighing perceptions and treasures while from sufferer life
is squeezed,
Then when apathy of brethren with power to provide should
decline,
Their help arrives, but with it an aftertaste of brine.
There is no fear in need, just hope for good of man to
arise,
Bringing neighbour with no hand to grasp a warm surprise,
And illuminate the divinity that in each and all resides.
That salvation of sufferers will resolve breed,
To others when tables turn reach out with speed.
Aubrey McWatt |
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