.... A Beautiful Life.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

while you are still
half asleep tired of the last night's

thrill having engulfed so many drinks
with friends and kin

this early morning you hear the house-help
sweeping the yard which is littered with
paper and leaves and grass

you hear the music of the sweeping and the
the rolling pebbles and the leaves and grass and
those wasted paper now forming into a heap

and then you begin to remember the past years
how the sweeping was made, how nature cleans its face
the tsunami, the earthquake, the wars, the killing of the tribes,
the bombing of cities, the mass evacuation of people away from
their own countries,
the flood and the wiping out of a village
the bushfire somewhere in australia
the huge conflagration in indonesia
the black smoke reachign singapore
and lots of other calamities


deaths of famous philosophers, politicians,
actors, etcetera etcetera

and you reflect upon what the Lord has been saying,
the sweeping of the yard, the weeding out in the garden,
the separation of the goats from the sheep
the slaughter and the punishment and rewards
and the burning in hell

how the weeds soon shall be taken out dried and burned
how the goats should be slaughtered

and in your bed you feel the grass growing on your chest
crawling to your body and you touch your forehead trying to feel
the goat's horn growing like a tree

and you wake up rush to the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror asking yourself:

where is the grass? where is the horn? have i become another goat
fit to be slaughtered and burned?

and you open the window now seeing the house-help burning
the wastes of last night's thrills,

how the fire glare
how she sits there smiling at you wanting to greet you
about

a bright day, a beautiful morning
a beautiful life....