Ode to Conscience Like Snow Patterns

Falling snow softly covers everything under a white fleece,

Every twig, branch, tree; every mound, hill and mountain.

Snow conscience’s unfiltered clarity of cascading frozen flakes,

Purity of evaporated water ascending clouds from global oceans.

But how does our consciousness fall down upon humanity?

Angels’ exhalations of truth as gifts of peace and morality,

Falling, unequivocally, covering the injustices and pain…

Protesting farmers’ convoys protect their herds from culling,

Slaughtering innocent families with rightists’ hands of war,

Conspiring white-washing crimes that matter no longer matter,

Deceiving public trust and resonating ego mania.

And so, Nature’s snow soon clears exposing identification;

But how does our conscience ever permeate, never melting,

Paying the price for a forever winter of rued vulgarity?

Annemarie Berukoff