Better Than Silence

Better Than Silence

         Why do the nations rage? — Psalm 2

Surely our hopeless prattling 

         is comical from where you sit, 

                like watching fire ants go bumbling 

over one another on a mound

         you scuffed. “He who sits

                in the heavens laughs,” and while

I understand the underlying humor, it 

         is far less entertaining in the middle

                of the pile. This image of the ants

will work for now in clarifying this 

         frustration, but ants don’t get the dirt 

                stuck in their eyes, go blind, and miss

the mark, so maybe we look more 

         like dogs with cataracts, walking into walls

                then throwing our arthritic legs into reverse

to do it once again before we call

         it quits, lie down to take it from the top,

                hoping for morning to pry through thick opacity.

Yes, blind arthritic dogs is more appropriate, 

         as what we need, quite simply, is a guide.

                But please forgive me if my angry accusations

at your reticence are poorly placed,

         for what if laughter is the most effective guidance

               for a limping, sightless cur? You'd think I'd know!