At times, news of the ills and evils of the world seem overwhelming. Disasters bring such a wave of images, a swelling of compassion and a desire to make right what is wrong. But all the efforts of all humankind can never set things right, for evil grows daily.

The four stanzas of this poem tackle this frustration and swing the reader to the real and permanent good that may be done.

Blank verse is not a form you’ll see often in these parts (free verse, never!). But it seems to fit the substance of the thought. I hope you like it. Continue reading