Amish, Hasids, and Mormons

A madman pushed me off the track, lucky not much harm I sat in the Hospital waiting room with just a broken arm. They handed me a form to fill, 20 genders, 10 types of race - I tore the sheet with my good arm and walked out of that place. I walked past a park, a man dropped a syringe, gave me a stare I walked past a crazy woman preaching to the air. I walked past teens speaking to their phones but not each other. Saw expressions I couldn’t read - an enemy or a brother? I remembered the in-crowd whose moral sight was blind I wanted to leave their dubious fads behind I walked past the demonstrators, their justice leads to blood: We may need a Noah's ark from the oncoming flood. I walked along the Palisades, the river on my right. I perked up because the old roads, the boat basins came in sight. I jogged on the Long Path, crossing Bergen County, then Rockland too. Turned inland and ended up in a children's petting zoo. There were the black hats - Jews of a Hasidic sect. I spoke with one woman; she looked at me with undeserved respect. It was a change from the jaded people I often met Wondered what the secret was, is a religious way correct? Those Jews might not surf the internet, they might not watch TV. And when they move en masse into a town they spark animosity. But what struck me there was something clean and true. As she pointed out the exotics in that petting zoo. Since then I've been to Lancaster, where the Amish live an older way That lifestyle has its drawbacks too, there are always shades of gray. I've visited Salt Lake, where Mormons spurn drugs for recreation A visitor described them as the handsomest in the nation. I like my way of life, but other ways make me think Do we really need social media, or drugs, an evening drink? Would we be better people, if some things we didn't know? Should we stand against the current, or go with culture's flow? Do we really need the likes, the scroll that never ends? Can we stop and read a while, or try to make real friends? Can we set anchor in a place where lies don’t get through? Can we cure our sick republic, retain what’s proven true?