When you can’t find a poem that says precisely what you need to hear at a given moment, why, then you have to write one yourself! And so I did this morning.
© 2017 Doug Goodkin
A February Spring day in Golden Gate Park.
The sun emerged after five days of constant rain without
a single person voting for it.
The Congress of trees met and the plums, a clear minority,
spoke their piece in pink fragrant blossoms without the others shutting them down.
No dam Cabinet leader blocked the flow of the gurgling stream nor shouted to drown out its merry burbling song.
No one insulted the pink bulbs beginning to open or foreclosed the homes of the nesting birds or banned the bees from entering the flower.
No one claimed that Spring didn’t really exist or built a wall to keep out the migrating winged creatures.
On a February Spring day in Golden Gate Park,
True democracy prevailed.