Because an airplane flew overhead
At 4AM
I am awake.
It is the interconnectedness of all things;
Because, two days ago,
In an intersection somewhere 
In Denver,
The flight mechanic responsible for this plane
That flew overhead
At 4AM,
Missed a stop sign and nearly
Ran over a pedestrian,
He was upset and, later that day,
Forgot to note he had repaired a minor problem in a pump.
But, when the plane landed in Fiji, the prudent pilot
Was concerned and had it checked.
This only took a moment;
But, because of this, they missed a take off window.
Whilst they were waiting, the engineer there noticed something else
That was critical and had to be repaired
Thus delaying the flight several hours and putting it in to Sydney
At 4AM; awaking a swath of sleeping suburbs.
Because of that pedestrian, who had paused for a moment
To greet a neighbour in Denver who had surgery some weeks ago.

Yet, somehow,
I'm supposed to believe I have little care 
Or connection to people under siege in Syria,
The asylum seekers in Australian detention camps,
The people in dim factories who made the clothing I wear,
Or the children trafficked to harvest the tea for the cup in my hand.
All things that cover the compass of life and death
As well as the the choices I have to encompass.
When the synchronicity of a missed step
Ripples out across the world,
How can I glibly hold
That the deaths of so many
Are just the gloomy bits
Between advertisements on the evening news.