A Poem For A Wednesday

Good People
W.S. Merwin

From the kindness of my parents
I suppose it was that I held
that belief about suffering

imagining that if only
it could come to the attention
of any person with normal
feelings certainly anyone
literate who might have gone 

to college they would comprehend
pain when it went on before them
and would do something about it
whenever they saw it happen
in the time of pain the present
they would try to stop the bleeding
for example with their own hands

but it escapes their attention
or there may be reasons for it
the victims under the blankets
the meat counters the maimed children
the animals the animals
staring from the end of the world


I suppose this poem puts me back on yesterday's soapbox around equity, but I won't go on and on again. I think Merwin helps articulate how I feel about wanting people to understand pain and injustices and the mistreatment of others. As Merwin asks, how can all these smartypants around us not see and feel the suffering and injustice? Or if they do feel it, how are they so talented at squelching those feelings and continuing on their own little paths, unaffected? But then I think about it and I suppose I do this too. I often tell myself "okay, this is upsetting and sad, but you can't take this on. Don't add it to your stack." I can't allow myself to always feel sad for every shelter dog or angry about every instance of racial profiling or depressed everytime someone I know loses someone they know. But it's all there. It's too much to undertake, so perhaps we just have to tuck it away and know that when we can, we will do our best to help.