A party, loud music, a few drinks, and a superficial conversation with a dear friend. Yet in both of us there’s this longing to connect in a much deeper way, on a much deeper level. So why don’t we? What holds us back?
A wall of words
that mostly serve
to keep me 18 inches from your face.
Do you understand my meaning
when I talk of mutual sorrow
(then quickly glance away),
that on this crazy planet
our mutual pain is sometimes
all we hold in common?
Can you see me like I see you
beyond the mandatory smile,
my well learned social grace
I use to hide all trace
of the frightened little child.
But I’m looking past your words tonight
crying out for something we can share,
if only mutual failure, if only mutual fear.
And so I’m letting them go,
letting them drop,
watch them fall from me,
crumble at my feet
(my party masks and theatre casts)
see my image fade
as I move a little closer now
as I give up trying to impress.
Hear me talk of pain,
of lonely wars
and wounded friends,
see me as I see you,
just another soldier
in the battle to be free.
Let us run together
and scale the wall,
every wall
that makes us fear,
that makes us walk alone,
and even if we fail,
at least we’ll fall together
upon this broken earth
where all else just falls apart.
by Kristin Jack, who lived with his family for 17 years in Cambodia. From his book Poetry and Prophecy
Tags:
