There’s always more sacrifices
Coming down the pipe
Discarded lives and trusts
It all falls somewhere
Cascading, descending
Through the monocular lens of the history of people
Observed, absorbed
By those who’d never survive such a thing
In the cauldron of despair
We learn to breathe muck
We persist
Fortitude breeds what reality teaches
And we are cracked open by our quest
For that invisible tunnel
With the light of truth at the end
Or the fearless vastness of simple freedom
From the sacks of false emancipation
Lumbered around on quivering backs
Seeds drop into the dung
One day, relinquishing the struggle
For a retreat to past conditions
The next, bursting through the earth
On urgent safari to the sun
Unbelievably, inevitably
Startling those who’d never survive such a thing
Yesterday
What was one man’s garbage
Now wields the power of transformation
Yesterday
What was so much flotsam and freely expendable
Today has one word.
Peace.
Jambo Robyn 
I felt like I was on a whirlwind being tossed around and then find the word ‘peace.’ I particularly like the ‘retreating to past conditions’ – a moment of comfort? Beautifully expressed Robyn.
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Thanks Wendy. I think true freedom is a condition of peace or vice versa. When an entire race of people are oppressed, a collective wish for the conditions of the past often arises. But living things tend to grow forwards…
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They DO fortunately keep growing, which is encouraging as it denotes, to my way way of thinking, resilience, defiance perhaps but also strength. Altogether thought-provoking! Bouquets to you!
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WOW!!! “From the sacks of false emancipation…” Bravo, Robyn!!!!
BE
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Thank you Brian what a delightful response! At this time I think it’s worth remembering that our oppressors cannot restore the freedom they took, even if they wanted to…
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You are correct indeed. I find it ever-increasingly more interesting that the descendants of our oppressors do not possess the ability to truly understand how deeply our pain goes. Without this understanding…better yet, the desire to understand, we cannot even locate the common ground to begin to traverse it. I fear our generation is fighting a different war, although the skirmishes feel vaguely familiar. We’re up against more than just hate…we’re now up against our own history. We win with our words…Keep writing!!!
BE
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Exactly! The common ground is, of course, that everyone inherited the current mess and no-one is comfortable with it. Compassion does not arise easily from guilt or blame. This generation did not suffer the same level of injustice as the previous. This generation did not perpetrate the same level of injustice as the previous. Be the first to listen with compassionate ears to the woes of your enemy – they will show you the path to mutual peace. Err, umm… that just flew into my brain and I wish we were actually conversing in person. Your comments are inspiring me to thoughts that hadn’t previously been realised. It’s a joy and an honour.
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The feeling is mutual. This interchange has been most refreshing. The joy and honor are both mine. Although not in person, I am elated that we have met via this medium. Until next time, Robyn…
BE
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