Here in the space between,
where we can easily breathe,
no more intercessions,
no more free-for-all,
crash and burn.
Crisis,
upon crisis,
something lingers.
We don’t shake our skeletons
like in old cartoons.
All those old,
dead things
keep piling on.
This one has been something special.
There is nothing to break stride.
All these new, modern traumas,
piling up on us
inside,
outside,
and I
think we’re gonna break.
We’re gonna beg for it
to be over.
We think we’ll stand against,
and some just might,
but most
will accept any savior.
We don’t heal
on the inside
the way we do
on the outside.
Trauma,
on trauma,
on sickness,
on instability.
We’ve seen this before,
just not on this scale
for a long time.
I’m
watching us undermine
our own foundations,
because we like
to watch things fall.
We don’t know what’s coming next.
No,
we don’t know anything
at all.
So,
take them where you find them.
These slow moments,
and breathe.
Fill your lungs deeply,
because the tidal wave,
shit storm
of history
is about to break over us.
HG – 2020
