Debate the Dream
What ship in storm, if strong, veers from wrong to wrong,
though the prophets of tidal doom pound their gongs?
There is no crisis, dear, that should bar us from words.
And when words fail, we can embrace each other in our history
together, feel our future in our arms and warm the silence,
as emotions crest and crash, while we steady toward calm.
II.
We live in crisis times, some yell, as desultory
baby-carriages are pushed for walks, millions of joggers
lap parks, homeless near highways still “Will Work for Food.”
Some want to use this crisis to drown words
which might describe the odd normality we live, orbiting—
and veering beyond—whirlpools and anchors of property,
cash, paychecks, credit. . . .
III.
Time to debate, disagree, time to talk
in this election season—voters’ rudder for the times;
our chance should not halt because a temporary shock
has dried the credit flow of funders of the “American Dream.” Cut
through that dream to the tidal dreams and verily speak
for true and fair liberty and the pursuit of living,
where he or she can look in the mirror
and bless back their days.
Poems by Gregg Mosson. Gregg Mosson is author of Season of Flowers and Dust from Goose River Press, and an editor of this blog.
