the news is scary

It’s honest, it’s real, and it’s heavy, dear.
The silence of shyness, the crippling fear
of the rape and the racism, torture and theft,
the starving so pure that there’s no hunger left;
the wide world of worry, each one by themselves
a true murder’s worth in the mind that it swells
and we’re walking around, and we’re reading our words
like we’re meant to be silent, live tragic, absurd.

But here I am writing, and you’re sitting down

And truth isn’t sadness but every beat
of your heart when you’re not sitting there in that seat:
the sex and the symmetry, the birth and the breeze,
the whispers of love that can weaken the knees,
The singing, the poetry, imagined, informed;
Fairy tales are all rescues- with the hearts therein warmed.
Yes billions pretending they’ve learned how to feel
when the mystery’s love, it is heavy and real.