There is no them.
Only us:
across the table,
behind the wall,
sharing coffee,
passing the green beans,
throwing stones,
breaking curfew;
armed to the teeth
biting back with rubber bullets,
cheering for little leaguers,
praying for peace,
marching in the night,
hiding behind official jargon;
joining in song,
crying out for explanations,
flying drones in acts
of faceless violence,
dousing ourselves with ice water,
struggling to learn
that life is more than
a series of self-inflicted wounds.
There is no them. Only us.
Peace,
Milton
Wow, just wow. And amen.
Read a great story years ago told by a young man at a music festival in England — he was having a bad day and feeling paranoid and afraid and climbed onto a tour bus to hide. It turned out to be Captain Beefheart’s bus. When the band noticed him, Don Van Vliet walked over and said, “Who is this cat?”
“Then I remembered my assumed predicament. How I was lost in Hell and all that sort of thing. So I hit him with, ‘Whose side are you on?’ He batted back with, ”Why does there have to be any sides? Why can’t it be like a circle?’”
us indeed.
Milton, FYI, the direct link from my email notification to this post was broken. I kept trying and finally found the way through your home page. and I’m glad I did!