What It Is (or Isn’t)

A moment of presence and joy on the coast of Oregon

When we can watch children suffer, get poked and prodded for a lifetime of pain

See schools full of holes from the bullets of the named insane

Then watch a football play on repeat or binge watch a show

It’s like we dumb ourselves down and choose not to know.

Which is strange because we fight among ourselves about power and freedoms, the rights we are owed though, do we even need them

If we don’t use them for more than clicking our remotes

and pointing and screaming, name calling the “other” folks

While she heads to her 238th scan in her 14 year old life

and we choose to instead to see the distractions and piddle away our one wildly brief and precious life.

I wrote this poem when one of my favorite people in the world was going for yet another scan for a cancerous tumor she’s had almost her whole sweet life. She’s somehow managing to l or a more whole beautiful life than so many people who are healthy and have never seen the miner of pokes and prods she’s endured.

Trust me, I’m oblivious most of the time, too. I numb and check out and disembody and escape like the rest of us.

I crave more true freedom. Found in awareness. And peace. And acceptance. And LOVE. Because that’s where the real power is. And we don’t have to fight one another or ourselves for that kind of Power.

Beaming love to you,

Melynda