.. in light of our own (also passing) culture
Our lives are set to grow us up. Impacts
of cultures & economies conspire
as servants of creative love to tax
un-fam’ly* at a rate that is much higher.
Heuristic that might mimic
(gifts to care)
with immature, unloving creatures which
are hardly hearted* but think they are there,
assuming that their currency’s the pitch
to spiel, or play the game (like cricket?) on.
To keep up with the science of the times;
to follow culture’s choice of worth, and song
that will be used as current in power lines.
And when I hear the voice of that young bub
across the walls or under floor at home,
recalling too, the process to grow up,
involves a lot of suff’ring, pain, and stone-
stone-walling of our own agendas and
unsurity about our own needs but
some insight into others round, who stand
quite near, when we learn how to press their butt-
ons; on or off, this gives us insight to
the person we are living near to see
how taking them, their frailties now into
account, not to control, but so to be
relating to them as another bod
on Earth, as neighbours in this neighbourhood.
I have to listen to them not as “God”
but as someone who might reflect some good.