January 4, 1974
1:00 p.m.
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
Poem For The New Year
Naught but compassion for a fallen soul,
He looks into mirrors in order to find life.
The religionists will curse you if you
fail to believe...their way.
Now as we survive yet another dream year,
When it has passed although we wanted
to get something else done, we realize
That time waits for no one even
when their clock has run down.
When letters are written to wisps of smoke
And I tread on fields of broken glass
I look to you for peace, my God,
Because without you I couldn't keep
my sanity in this world of paper scraps.
When I think of what they've done to you
The hypocrite religionists with their
dog-eared Bibles, I realize
my problems are but
pieces of dust
in the
wind
And because of you I can look upon
a beautiful day and forget about
problems--
and hypocritical philosophies--
and fields of broken glass--
And I can pray.
copyright 1999-2004 by Michael F. Nyiri
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