Footprints in the Windsm # 946

Footprints in the Windsm # 946

Who are our neighbors, who our brothers and sisters? Who can help us? Our bellies are full and pendulous; our muscles loose as our bowels; our food too rich for our health; and our eyes see not the drugs we give our poorest to keep them in our jails and west ends and south sides and graffiti-fied no-neighbor-hoods.

Who can help us, now? We are blind; our bodies no longer feel; children die and we know no longer how to weep. We send money, but only our wallets feel smaller, and we cannot know larger.

Who can help us cry?

Who will console us who need no consoling? Dance with us when we will not? The only time we grieve is at a funeral; this is something to grieve, yes? We dance only at weddings and nightclubs….

Who will speak with us? Is there anyone? Our talk flees from consequences: we have forgotten soul-wrenching and spirit-opening: we experience not the unknown and unexplainable.

Who can help us, after all this time? To whom can we turn? We have no each other anymore.


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Published in: FootprintsintheWind/sm | on April 11th, 2009 | No Comments »

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