Captured by the distant horizon

In the midst of the turmoil 

(This tumultuous thing called life)

We may find ourselves, defensively 

Scanning the distant horizon

It is not entirely unexpected 

In this continuous news cycle

Bombarded every minute 

Updated every hour, every day

Our eyes darting constantly

Toward any flicker on the horizon

Searching cautiously expectant

For any respite of good news

To break up the words and images

Of death, of unrest, of violence

Of vitriol, of racism, of hatred

Of the petulance of those leading

Somewhere out there beyond

There must be better answers

There must be clarity and light

Yet, daily, the darkness reigns

On this side of the horizon

Hope is languishing, wounded 

By the sting of the sheer numbers

A barrage of poison tipped arrows

Vigilantly, we stand with eyes straining

Scanning the invariably changing horizon

Seeking one reason to believe again

This is the last vestige of our hope

But, this is also our failure

For, in focusing intently on the future

We have slowing lost sight of now

With all of its belief and reason

We are captured by the distant horizon

Today, not some far-off indifferent horizon

Not the malnourishment of countless prospects

This precise moment, not a cloudy future

This is what we need to feed our souls

There will always be possibilities abounding

However, right now we are surrounded by hope

We are compassed by the throng

Those living their daily lives, in spite of doubt

Of course, keep scanning the horizon

Yet, look around you to see glimmers of dreams

See the feet of those still marching

See the hands of those still helping

Hear the words of those still speaking

Then, add your feet, your hands, your voice

Become the light breaking across someones horizon

Be the hope 

Be the possibility 

Be the horizon

© Ron Simpson Jr.

August 1, 2020