Not in a school this time, but still, a child was shot and is critically fighting for his life.
What has happened to us? How did we get here? When did LIFE become so de-valued? It is the single most precious thing we have. All of us. Without it, we have nothing.
How do we not see ourselves in another? THIS is what baffles me. THIS is what motivated my response to gun violence... I share it here in fully as we cannot partially respond to this gun violence issue. Life is worth fighting for.
MORTAL MYSTERY
What is it
in you
that cannot
see
Me?
That does not
recognize the familiarity
of my tears, my
needs, my eyes?
How can you not
smell my love,
the floral
fragrance I whisper to this world,
my smile a mighty
atomizer
spewing pleasure
through my teeth
as beautiful truths
come bursting forth.
Is there no value
in you
that you cannot
value me?
Are you lacking
certain bones or muscles that pump your heart
to keep it soft and
steady, alive?
Is your soul so
hidden in your pinky toe
that you do not
know
that we are kin
Sisters in
sisterhood
Brothers in
brotherhood
Partners in
being
Homo sapien?
Journeying in lock
step
on a planet racing
toward extinction?
Are you so
convinced of difference
that you cannot
spot the evidence
of sameness all
around you?
Do you hunger? Do
you cry?
Does your left ear
itch when you fly? Like mine?
Have you ever tried
to taste the rain?
Or catch a bubble
in your hand?
I wonder if you can.
If you have the
capacity
to see my
vulnerability
and its undeniable
resemblance
to your own.
When you hold your
lover's hand,
does it paint your
cheeks like mine?
Does your mother's
face bring swirling thoughts, memories, scars to mind?
Perhaps it is the
viewfinder
you look through
that distorts your
vision
blurs your judgment
as you aim,
my nose transformed
into a bullseye
as your finger
strokes the trigger
stoking up the
flames inside your mind
muddying the watery
weak excuses
that you
claim
grant you some kind
of permission
to do the
unspeakable
Here and Now.
Why do I sense
fear
in your bloodshot
eyes?
As you pose in your
mock state of strength?
Could it be that
you are afraid of unarmed me?
Your power-gun
nothing but a mask
to hide the
blackest blasts
of your inner
shame?
Does your eyelid
know my name?
That quiver in your
palm,
perhaps it's
picking up the rhythm of my pulse
our heartbeats
quickened
by the fatal
proximity of an early grave.
What score will you
celebrate today?
As my final breath
blends with yours
the air we share an
equalizer,
our need for it the
same.
Have you no burning
in that smoking fingertip?
No chapping of your
grimly parted lips?
No resonance within
your vocal chords that vibrate just like mine
as you chant your
victory cry
while I whimper my
last words?
You see me as an
apple in those orange eyes of yours
but surprise!
We are family
fruit from a
familiar tree of DNA.
You're shooting off
my nose
to spite our
collective human face.
Duvall O’Steen ©2016
