THOUSAND-MILE STARES

THOUSAND-MILE STARES

It’s New Year's Day, time for me to say
what I could or should do differently to change
and improve my life; to lift my soul to a higher place,
to make a worthwhile contribution to this dark world.

So focussed on the tv screen I witness a perfect
procession of images marching. So far they've come,
beamed via strange flickering satellites littering Heaven.
Miraculous in my favourite chair, I stare and share.

By breathtaking visual splendours my heart is lifted!
So awestruck by the flowers, beauty and imagination
symmetrically woven into the orderly, colourful displays
being paraded proudly before me--I am metamorphosed.

Marching bands of precision and promise showcase their
talents as they move along, stopping only now and then to
give a special, command performance to those confident,
cozy and comfortably aligned dignitaries flanking the parade.

Delighting once more as I welcome the coming hours of living
floats remarkably created only with leaves, seeds and flowers!
for Pasadena California’s annual Tournament of Roses Parade,
which is instantly beamed, or so it seemed, just to me,only me.!
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Unsure why, but at the break I switch to channel CNN.
to an annual Special Presentation:  "The Year In Review".
Once there, no turning back, no looking away, no walking out.
I could never have forseen the horrific events closing 2004.

Such unimaginable, unbelievable, unforgettable images of
incomprehensible horror, escorting the year to death, rebirth.
Not a movie of World Wars I or II, or a shocking,
terror-filled film revisiting the holocaust!
No sets, nor props, nor actors...

Nothing of man could manifest such awsome/aweful greatness.
Tsunami! Tsunami! Tsunami! words unfamiliar and unknown. 
Unnoticed changes, unrecognized signs sent fearless people,
curious to answer beckonings of the disappearing sea!

Waters rapidly vacuum toward the deepest crevices splitting
through the ocean floor! More deadly than the receeding--was
the returning! The awesome wall, the tower, the mountain of
ocean rising skyward, was oblivious of life and death
in its grasp, insensible of its own power.

This first wave summoned all carnage from land and sea,
leaving no safe havens for those in it's sights. Repeatedly
returning to claim even more, in fractured seconds, moments
lengthened, morph, anihilating towns, cities, islands--hope!

All are newly born unwitting orphans, no families, no food,
no homes, holding hands with fear. Confused, screaming
and tearing clothes, while levelled buildings provide the
pieces of lives and deathly debris racing past them
in the rushing rapids borne of Tsunami mountains.

More crying, more dying, more fear, more pain and every-
where those haunting faces glance into the hopelessness,
nothingness, blackness of fear and pain and loss--hollow
statues, numbed with depression. None have feelings,
souls or prayers, gazing in thousand-mile stares.

Panicked reporters and fearful photographers scurry
frantically with open electronic portals through which this
other world could behold the natural gift delivered by the
awsome ocean! To Asia no warning! "Satellite of Roses"
now transmits images of thousand-mile stares.

People left with nothing to rebuild, no food, fresh water,
nor clothes or medicine.  Most homes, even shelters
to hide and sleep in, are gone. So many cultures,
languages ruled by confusion, destitution, trepidation.
Injured, dying, dead accumulate thousand-mile stares.

Everywhere in faces I read blankness. A tiny girl, dirty,
ragged, hopeless, in vain cries for the mother never
coming. Faces are frozen in emptiness. A boy, name-
less, homeless, wearing a paper sign, announces in
vain to whom he should belong...thousand-mile stares.

On every face questions silently, desperately screaming
hopelessly: “What is happening; where are loved ones;
what should I do? Have I been left behind; am I alone;
who can help me? Please, I’m hungry.” Jointly all render
one sad visage, one countenance...thousand-mile stares.

In surreal numbers, flameless corpses, lights extinguished,
delivered by sea.Unfair the "left behinds" pursue the loved
ones torn from their arms and livesforever by the unforgiving,
awesome ocean waves. Still grieving, fortitude summoned
unceremoniously, burn, bury with...thousand-mile-stares.

Eyes more vacant than sad, more hopeless, not tearful,
more empty than present. No light remains to emanate from
helpless, silent eyes. No glimmer, no-one there. Blackness,
blankness, hollowness in tsunami eyes...moved safely where
pain is tolerated, accepted, more...thousand-mile stares.

Who can stay the tsunami seas, render needed sparks of
light and life; rescue with water, food, medicine? To stir
world powers to improve their warnings? I am only one,
but prayers joined fight agonizing thousand-mile stares.