We’re tuning in together across
the planet, deliberate, setting
aside our jaded lies. We’ve treaded
water, gasping and choking, trying
to heal ourselves in the poisoned
system, rising and falling alone.
Throbbing wounds from unexpected
splinters: we do not rush to kill
the pain. Instead we witness the
longing for death, trace its descent
through our lineage, the millennia
a tangled knot we cannot integrate.
Setting aside our individual triggered
drama to illuminate our collective
trauma. Each of us a fractal symptom.
Summon our skilled weavers. Illuminate
the net which binds us, blindly grasping
until we let go. The tapestry emerges
familiar and strange: our wounded
ancestors’ intricate scenes of carnage,
victim and perpetrator dances too horrifying
to love. Release the story. See the spin.
What breathes through us, what moves our
passionate living? Opening our vulnerable
hearts now, we sing what is. Resistance
chorus urges us to act. The future
clamors: repeat the unexamined past
fast. And still we sit, allowing
the tightly held terrors. Safe now
in our warm regard. In this relational
space we create entirely new
breathing what is in the way.