My life walks on with its normal considerations, and I grumble inwardly about the weather (windy, rainy, raw) and the time change, while in Japan everything has been turned upside down.  What about the tsunami?  What about that which stops everything?  Attention turns from Libya to Japan, though the fierce dramas unfolding in Libya and Bahrain continue.  As does the sniping in Afghanistan, and the myriad struggles in Africa.  I guess I have no choice but to live my own life, where I am.  And, as long as it’s not disturbed, proceed as normal.  Homework, life aspirations, weddings in the family . . . 

But here are two for Japan:

Just a trifled shuffling of the earth

and all that seemed established came unmoored

swept and tossed and flowing, falling downward

in a moment wasted, mired and marred

plans and dreams, like cars and houses carried

creaking, from the hopes that held them fast

a stark today; tomorrow has been buried

left in the jumbled rubble of the past.

Of death and what it means – who can say

if they’re set free, or face horrendous trials

but the survivors – what they face – oh let us pray

for healing for their decimated isles

and let us pause in silence for their sorrow

what came to them may come to us tomorrow.

Here and now, the only truth is goodness

whatever has been spewed and spilled and tumbled

Here and now, the quiet space of promise

of character that rises from the rubble

Here and now, hands reach out in compassion

People stop, rethink their frenzied paths

Hearts are inundated with emotion

and grasp the anchored love that holds them fast

“We will rebuild,” they say, “and stronger, better.”

“It’s what we’re here to do, and so we must.”

We see the triumph of determination

the solid impulse where they place their trust

We never wish such sharp calls to survive

but here and now, this people is alive.