Rumblings in the earth,
stirrings in the weather patterns;
hurricanes, tornadoes,
hottest years,
coldest years
devastating floods.
Leaders gridlocked,
blind selfish greed running rampant,
widening the chasm between
haves and have-nots,
to an unleapable size.
Oppressed people rising,
discontent stirring,
rumbling, roaring,
taking to the streets.
One might wish
for a simpler time,
a quieter time,
pastoral days watching
fluffy clouds floating in fields of blue.
One might moan and writhe
crying, Doom! Doom! Doom!
Or one might sense
in the darkness and disruption
the excitement of change,
the emergence of the new.
One might,
instead of moaning and writhing,
choose to dance, to sing,
to love, to embrace,
to breathe through these labor pangs
knowing that the new
the bright
the ecstatic
is being born.
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