We didn’t want this today,
this terror,
this excavation of
our spirits,
our children’s lives
uprooted and stolen
by the bullet,
by the gun,
by the young man
with the gun,
by the government
that won’t end
all this pain,
by the human
condition
to demand
and thrive
on terror.
It is too much,
and we cannot speak
anything else
but curses
against every
thought and prayer,
curses
against every
inaction and every
step in the direction
of hate and violence.
In my tent
Under stars
Quivering legs
So exhausted
But what if there
is a bear outside
who’ll tear into our tent
and crush our skulls?
Or perhaps a saber-toothed tiger
or even a mammoth
casually trampling?
I’m too terrified to sleep out here
night after night,
month after month,
Yet I do.
Each night I face my primal fears
and lay down under the ripstop plastic
and trust.
Today it feels like terror is winning.
It feels like the power hoarders
who choose and maintain
Violence
Guns
Wars
Oppression
Exploitation
Scarcity
Greed
are winning.
It feels like the awakening of universal consciousness is happening too slowly.
How many more lives must be taken?
How much more suffering can we bare?
Today the terror brings overwhelming grief and despair.
Will the terror ever end?