“If we had a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow and the squirrel's heart beat, and we should die of that roar which lies on the other side of silence.”
― George Eliot, Middlemarch

Spring is born
And wanders free
Unlike you and unlike me - 
Adrift upon a nameless sea
A son of Adam
A daughter of Eve
Innocence too hard
To retrieve.

Conniving abroad
This two-faced Kaddish
With hands on a face
A bitter and harsh disgrace.
A burnt offering - a human life - 
Too hard to swallow
Unless carved with a knife.

Mammon rises
As tall as the sky
Stampedes the poor
Into saying goodbye.
Every word
A hellish lie.