[by Don James, via Effie's World]

PANACEA

The womb is wrenched
And the small life
Ready with rage
Protests the light

Anger ignites
The small machine-
Provides the spark
For the explosion

Later religion
Will inform
Why the thistle
Why the thorn

Philosophy
Will try to soothe
The subject with
Hypothesis

Then love will touch
The wound of world
And from it grow
A gracious lily