High and low, Holy, hylomorph-
Ism, makes life lived so wondrous
And our diff’rences but a dwarf
To those who’d say: huge and cumbrous!
With this flesh we crawl, leap, and run;
Using our hands to furl the flags
That waved all day in the full sun
By soldiers carrying body bags.
It seems we’ve so much in common,
Same bodies extending into
Space. Yet, some minds clutch the bottom
Rung of a man’s moral IQ,
Impeded by what more than free-
Dom to make one’s own wrong choices,
Again and again; liberty
Denied, now just angry voices.
The beauty of our condition:
We can still sync to the One, High
Power of the Vine; perdition
Put out of the picture; ally,
Filling the hungry with good things,
Waiting for our hearts to open,
Our minds to unfold with new wings;
To fly with the One we hope in.
Gary Edward Geraci
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