Gentle politicians, at home and away,
as the trees prepare for rebirth,
having sent their colourful foliage to earth,
let us not fall foolishly into winter,
with naught to bear us through.
In years past,
Blasted by wind chills and whipping snow,
is it not compassion that bade our blood flow,
pushing it through frost to welcome spring?
Yet you irreverently dismiss such assertions,
and rashly divide, like Khan,
kin from clan.
But you need not cleave and conquer,
expecting de-facto rule, if not surrender;
Declare how firmly knit our rainbow band,
as it spans this bounteous land.
And even if you must be deaf ever after,
hear now, and hear clearly,
humanity’s pleas for more amity —
the kindness that softens winter’s blisters;
and bludgeon us not, with ten-percenters.
To remain yokeless, free people keep listening,
and applying strength with understanding,
for the sanctity of all souls.
For through all the world’s withstood:
holocaust and rebirth;
feast and famine;
flooding and drought;
one power controlled our fate:
the power of love —
ninety per cent of which you waste,
professing your care, while spewing hate,
seemingly unaware that None formed by the Almighty
may flourish on fear,
destined as we are to share one lot.