In Regards to Hate Groups and Springtime
Sitting.
Sitting and thinking and smelling.
Hardly April and it smells like Honeysuckle.
Probably means
a city girl like me
doesn’t really know what Honeysuckle
really smells like.
I believe in a god, and I’m the kind of person
who found faith in the hardest times.
So I normally would not ask
why do bad things happen?
My relationship to god, has always been
the greatest, last comfort in times of hopelessness,
so for me, that’s not the question to ask.
More to the point
how can the world be so startlingly, movingly, uncomprehendingly beautiful
and still be full of hate?
How can I love people
so inexplicably and wholly and without perhaps logical reason
And still be capable of evil, of hurting others.—I’ve done it
and you have to.
I don’t think its fair to say some humans are capable and others not.
We aren’t half of us good and half of us bad.
This ain’t Tolkien.
But, though I know the bad is bad,
the good is so amazingly good, that I can’t understand
why anyone turns away from it.
What joy or fulfillment they find
in hating people they’ve never met.
Thing is, they’d probably hate me too,
Arab Mischlinge, zweites Grades,
even though I look just like them,
which leaves me unable to decide
if I should be afraid or not.
I’ll admit hearing their rhetoric
makes me feel one thing.
Hate them right back.
And maybe that means something,
but I haven’t been able to figure out what it is.
,
