Pocket Size Stories

Lord, why?
I work unceasingly,
Fighting injustice in all forms,
Yet I'm overwhelmed, outnumbered.
Worlds of horror unfold too fast to know,
Bombs shattering innocence of infants.
Why? Everywhere I look:
Greed, hatred, control, a rigged system.
Can I do nothing to stop such misery
Unleashing upon billions day and night?
Quietly in my unrestful dreams
Mother Mary comforts.
“Rest, weary one.
You cannot heal
The whole world.
You can heal
One heart—
Yours.
Let it be.”
With new wisdom, I carry on,
Not seeking answers or a magic solution,
Doing good within my ability
One day at a time.