There was a period in my life when I swore off the evening news. Those were days of peace and contentment.

But not watching the news doesn't make the world go away, and the more I watch the news, read the periodicals, and reflect on the goings-on of our nation and world, the more at a loss I am for words to express my amazement, unbelief, consternation, concern, and anger. Our leaders are digging a hole of debt from which we will never recover. Smarming their way around the world they are engaging a foreign policy which is feckless and dangerous. And these same leaders are seizing control over more and more of our lives as though it were their destiny from on high.

Finding words to share five days a week about this situation can be difficult, and, for you the reader, tiresome. So today I'm going to let Czeslaw Milosz, the late Polish-American poet and Nobel Laureate speak for me. I thought you might resonate with this poem from 1950, shortly after his defection from a role in the communist government of Poland:

You Who Wronged

You who wronged a simple man
Bursting into laughter at the crime,
And kept a pack of fools around you
To mix good and evil, to blur the line,

Though everyone bowed before you,
Saying virtue and wisdom lit your way,
Striking gold medals in your honor,
Glad to have survived another day,

Do not feel safe. The poet remembers.
You can kill one, but another is born.
The words are written down, the deed, the date.

And you'd have done better with a winter dawn,
A rope, and a branch bowed beneath your weight.

All I can say is, "Me, too!"

T. M. Moore