Cupboards and doors slam,
voices raise and anger rears
all like a rabid panther.

I sat and stared
at a giant boulder this morning
thousands, millions of years forming.
Puked out of an angry violent gash
of earth as it heaved and breathed fire.
Caked inside hard burnt clay
was a homely sunburned rock.
At one time this mud saw life
and struggle in a continuous play
of life and death; transformation.

Walking over rock, sand and boulders
 for hours with no water.
Only my head in turmoil and
an aching heart roaring in the silence.
No direction, lost in the distance
and time.

And lost it all while surrounded
by tumultuous examples of
perseverance.
No trivial little quips,
time doesn't care where the oats were put,
or repeating with reworded sentences
or shuffling things around
or whose stuff is who's.

Time doesn't care about our
little frets and spasms,
little peeves and annoyances,
or squabbles of trivialities.
Only we do.
And we lose so much
when we allow them to
shove themselves between us.

And time has its last laugh
when we return to the earth
carrying the burden and
baggage of all those
trivialities that separate us.
When we could have
shared love and a world.

Because all that really matters
is the common thread of
our humanity. And love.
How can we throw that away?
Like shoving it into a
garbage disposal and
pushing the switch
in a self-destructive manner.

When we don't have love,
flexibility,
compassion,
companionship,
tolerance,
forgiveness,
What is left of us?