Once again I find myself consumed by a book
that is at once swallowing me whole
and leaving bruises on my skin
the cruelty and devastation of fellow humans
on a people and their history
as well as the lasting weight
of a terrible guilt
seemingly
impossible to wash off
or adequately
deny
I put myself here in this
book
in this time of horrendous unfathomable unkindness
and wonder to myself
if indeed
I would have survived
(my heart so easily crumbles here, in the telling)
of course,
impossible to even
imagine
somehow as this breaks me into tiny pieces
parts of me wish to rise up
into iron clad activism
and the fight
for
justice
where would I be
where
would I
be?
“I have learned two lessons in my life: first, there are no sufficient literary, psychological, or historical answers to human tragedy, only moral ones. Second, just as despair can come to one another only from other human beings, hope, too, can be given to one only by other human beings.”
~ Elie Wiesel
I find it very hard to understand
the horrific unkindness that we as humans are capable of
the large and
the small
simple cruelties in unobserved
day to day
language
still thrown
like
darts
barely hidden
in
shadows
I want no part
so I sit
in stillness
and I ease out the sharp pieces
piercing my skin
I draw in a great breath
of a cleansing sort of
peace
I offer instead
gratitude
and
kindness
I send out
anonymous packages of
Love
in each exhale
I breathe goodness
and kindness
and smiles
I try to offer the world
gentleness, compassion
recognition
and
hope
because this
is the only place
I know
to
be ♥