Sometimes the absolute rationality of life seems so strange to me that the world we live in as people, seems alien. In the last couple of weeks, I've been overwhelmed by the protests.
Maybe it's because I live in a new world now, where social networking has brought images, thoughts and whispered prayers to me, personally, privately. I can't help but try to imagine how different the world would be today had we not had to depend on mass-media for information during the Berlin Wall. Tianamen. 9/11. Iraq. Katrina...
Today, I hear the protesters in Tehran demanding their democratic rights.
Today, I hear the uprising of indigenous communities in Peru demanding their human rights from the world's most powerful corporations.
Yesterday, I saw examples of human power like these through a thick smoke screen, weeks, even years after the fact and I was left feeling powerless, weak and ashamed.
Today, I watch and my heart is no longer filled with sorrow, rather, joy and pride. Because ordinary people are sharing what they see through their own eyes, what they feel in their guts and hearts, in broken English, through tears and cheers. Because they are brave enough to share, I can stand in solidarity with them. Maybe that seems naive, but I know it's brewing something. And I know that I'm not the only one who is feeling it, nor the last privledged one who will feel it. And I know that our solidarity, with each other, as humans and not objects of manipulation, is growing. And the warmth that is created in each of our hearts when we listen to each other, is stronger than any combative force, militant or civilian. It is peace. It is energy moving from violence to righteousness. I feel it growing and I am overjoyed.
I want to post a poem that I wrote that I have previously posted that is just so, so fitting right now.
And I want to thank you, for coming to Musings, and reaching out by hearing me out.
I am a coward
I don’t understand
what it means to dream in Arabic
and rap in a foreign land
and the life and the love and the
strength
that powers on
through and again
that I see and I watch
through my three inch thick screen
wider than that you know
that keeps me in touch
but still out of reach
***
there’s a tongue filled with grouse
far, far away in a wooded retreat
where I can cry
into my vodka
wishing
I was marching
through a funeral parade
a gas confrontation with
spears in the air
but somehow it doesn’t make sense
like my cowardice
my lowly retreat
is what everyone’s dying and
killing for
and it’s all a mistake
everything’s fine
here
where hearts yearn to live
no battle
no struggle
no anger
no hunger
no matter what else
I float in my sleep
and dreams
they crawl all over me
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