A SONNET FOR STRANGERS
By Ian Eliger
What makes someone a stranger, hides a face behind a shroud,
Turns a name into a label, warps a flock into a crowd?
What grinds away a victim's pain? Which grit absolves their love?
What filters out the soul till all that's left is what's allowed? Giving in to "othering" is drawing lines in sand.
What judgements can be permanent when being made firsthand?
Our differences are not our chains, our cultures not our mask
A broader point of view is what we offer, not demand.
An ecosystem thrives when all its members are in sync.
A chain is at its strongest only at its weakest link.
And when a voice is silenced, when injustices abound,
It becomes a moral duty to exert our right to think.
To be a part of nature is to nurture every part.
As a gardener in his meadow, as a painter to her art.
