Karma Lives at True North
I guess at her age
When wrinkles and white hair
Remind one of the quiet of winter
And the wisdom of a sage
It is surprising to feel her rage
An icy sharp slap
Coming straight from True North
To reset your compass’s guage
So many have lost their way
Their needles pointing south
No dignity, no humanity, no integrity
Greed is their pay-day
She lives at the True North Pole
Close to brother St Nick
He keeps a list and gives out gifts
While she seeks out the wayward souls
(Run!!! Karma is coming.)
100425bjb #bjbpoem #karma
barb j beyers 
This is a powerful and clever personification of Karma. The poem brilliantly contrasts her with Santa Claus—both mythical figures at the North Pole, but where Santa gives gifts, Karma delivers icy, necessary justice. The central metaphor of Karma as a force that “resets your compass” is striking, framing her not as a mindless punisher but as a corrector of moral direction for those who have lost their way to greed. The final, urgent “(Run!!!)” delivers a chilling and perfect conclusion.
LikeLike