the thick skin of karma

Right now the rage is pinned up, squeezed of all its power to penetrate the thick skin of karma.
My toes feel cold , my roots in the earth searching for nutrition, coming across a flashing Depletion sign.
The wild weeds grow, the bees come again to the bloom.
End of summer activiity
Earth at its bursting.

And inside me a similar burst ( and an unquenched thirst )for peace and fragments of insight.
the bbq sits on the deck, covered and lonely under the clouds.
No kids can be heard
Somewhere not too far away the sound of a backhoe.

In my ears there 's a buzzing on morning tv
the news casters look helpless, vunerable like hungry hostages.
I click thru looking for clips of war and disaster to confirm my beliefs.
There's no shortage.

There 's trees everywhere.
I watch the tops, still mostly, but an ocassional sway.
And the water of the harbour like glass.
And in the distance the bridge with traffic going over it.

Its just one of billions of melodramas
scratching at the thick skin of karma