This wholesale denial of grief
Renders the village
At war with itself

A people that denies its pain
Its confusion and its sorrow
Cannot truly celebrate its joy

The pushing away of death
Into the shadows
And our inability
To open our hearts
To our wounded state
And let love pour in and out
Keeps the beauty of life
The jewel we seek, peace,
Out of our hands

And we live as ghosts
Dreaming of the things
We could easily have
If only we turned and faced life

The wound is becoming clear
Rising to the surface of the collective
All that was denied is now
Becoming visible

Can we face ourselves?
Or will we yield to the despot
Who cries ‘It’s them!’
And we all turn
And blame someone else
Here we are friend,
In the midst
Of the biggest existential crisis
Since we arrived

Your grief
Your joy
Your openness
Your truth
Your power
Your love
Your beauty
Is in your hands

The only revolution is inside

Image by Goran Horvat from Pixabay