The Age of Separation
The age of separation settles in
And wraps its shabby cape around us all.
The blood that courses in our veins runs thin;
The hope that animates our hearts grows small.
We struggle in our search for unity,
Aware if only dimly of a whole,
The promise of a true community;
Instead, we're taught survival is the goal.
Survival is a means but not an end,
A means for something more than mere desire,
Allowing us to grow and comprehend
The purpose of our trial by ice and fire.
Divided as we seem, in truth we're more
Alike than unalike within our core.
©2016 Michael Fraley
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