Good world,
I will today
not force myself
to look down on you
from rage or sadness.
I will not manufacture
excuses not to marvel
at the light
and the dark of you.

When I cannot control
a storm within me,
I will today remember
to close my eyes
and hold that cyclone
in, let it whirl and bash me
and not you, good world;
neither you nor your people
shall suffer because of it.

Neither you nor your people,
good world, will today feel
what disease and
the crippling coping
with disease
have done to me — good world,
I know you’re good even if
I am blind to that now and then.

Some tell me
to open my eyes
and let you heal me,
good world; some claim
your Buddha
or your Jesus all alone
could make it so; some say
your skin and your nature
are enough — and good world,
I believe that may be true 
for some; 

but oh, we’ve been around,
you and I.  Tried so much
and failed to change the inside
storms.  Better still,
I think, to say: 

Good world,
I will today let you be good
and not malign or slander you
if I cannot stop the storm
from seizing me; I will not
forget the difference
between what I am
and where I am.