Do you hear the crying of the world . . .
the world, the world,
echoing . . .
from rocks of indifference
to valleys of despair?
It is everywhere.
Does no one care?
Half the world is off, like the prodigal son,
doing its own thing,
having a self-willed fling;
yet
when individual thought, having lost the way,
attempts to return to the Father,
is there not yet another half who would say,
in self-righteous, jealous voice,
"No, Father,
we'd rather
not rejoice?"
