more mornings than not I find myself
wishing there was no passive voice.
I lose patience with a world where
things are said, bills are passed,
mistakes are made, women are harassed,
damage is done, and lives are lost,
as though the mistakes make themselves,
the violence happens without perpetrators,
and the shootings without killers—
(apologies were made).
the grammar of grace calls us
to be the subject of our sentences
and know that someone is on the
receiving end, to speak in a voice
other than cowardice, to live a life
predicated on something other than
deflection and defensiveness.
what good is it to say you are loved?
trust can’t thrive in anonymity
let me be clear: I love you—
there’s nothing passive about it.