At the Mercy of a Billion Minds

A poem by Achuthan Panikath

Tue Mar 10 2026

Racing past the exit lane
I live again another mile,
For in twenty cars and seven trucks
Were minds that kindly kept the road.

In the Ford on my left was the witless teen
Who last night cut a line at the pub —
Of fifty packs of poison pressed,
His alley friend had chosen well.

Driving past at twice the speed,
His hands and gaze in perfect love,
Beneath those shades in shadows deep
His eyes looked past his half-cut vein.

They drove at pace in a dirty van,
Two lives that loved through wars and peace.
They hardly saw and dearly tried —
These lives, fulfilled, risked none at all.

Friday night with no qualm in sight,
Their chains a tug from liberty,
Les dames de carpe noctem ont régné.
All else dance but that foot on brake.

A boring man at war with sleep,
An angry one with gun in trunk —
They flank me now, I break a sweat,
I let go of the wheel I'd held all life.

Each mall where shots don't fly;
A bridge that held; no bombs in sight;
No poisoned fruit, no careless seed,
No needle waiting on my seat.

To put my faith in the minds of kin,
Those tempests of dawns and whistles of nights —
Ubuntu! Ubuntu! Ground yourselves!
But am I not also because you are not?

I am the proof of good in the world,
The Christ unkilled and loved as man.
Your mercy, with that of a billion unknown —
I breathe until your kindness runs out.