POLITICAL Poem: one day in November when I sit with you, by Evelyn Elston

to pretend that the world
has not always been this way
is to lie through our teeth,
cracked open and spaced
like fence boards, separating
house from house.

yes, the world has always
been vinegar and bleach,
pinecones which only open
when the forest catches fire;
the man on the high castle
only willing to jump if pushed.

hurt is human, selfishness
as much an extension of us
as our own limbs, bent out
of shape, mangled single file-
there is no Great War of the past,
only the invisible war of the everyday.

each time I buy groceries,
they charge me a little extra
take a little off my check
and warp iron into missiles,
steel into bombs, life into dust
homes into ground-up nothing.

and when this catches me,
grief of the morning nausea,
the weight of condemnation,
the burden of quiet compliance;
I shiver, I cry, and the tears
do nothing but dry up in time.

but then, when I gaze at the sky,
see the flowers sprout in spring,
break communion with friends,
comfort my mother, take an off day,
and listen carefully to the sound
of the fight back as it goes on and on-

I can hear thousands of small voices
become a marching band of love,
of justice, of community, of prayer;
the sound of tacks that chip away
at the boulder they called unmovable
and sculpt a world that could be new.

today i’ll raise a hammer,
plowing over heaven’s banner.
today I will plant seeds,
and helping hands will till the winding dirt-
today I’ll dream of work to be done,
the fruits of such we must believe
can still be passed down tomorrow.
today, I’ll sit with life and love and light,
today, I’ll sit with you