The Brave Pedestrian

We bleed, dear ones We bleed. Bleed together Bleed apart Peripherically aware Of the pain that we cause The cuts we inflict With sword With shield Blindingly aware of The white heat of pain That we ourselves feel Struck by An adversary's sword Or an ally's shield. We knew of the pain to follow when swords were drawn. Yes, we knew. "Live by the sword Die by the sword," We sportingly said. But Pain, my friend, Is more real Than all the philosophy in the world. We bleed And pay the price for drawing first blood Or failing to. Pray that the adversary's sword was clean. Pray that the ally's shield was clean. Pray that our own blood is clean. Pray that the wound is clean. Pray that the pain that we suffer Is Clean. Pray that the tears That blind us Are clear, purifying. Pray for Cleanness Clarity Purity. But pray not for Peace. Seek not the peace that Makes the sword rust in its sheath. Wounds shall heal But rusted swords... Ah, my friends What can we do to ease th...

In the unforgiving light of this morning, Unwilling to open my eyes, Unable to face myself and the world And you, I cower and cringe in bed. I look back at what we said and did last night A night of resentment, simmering anger, Recriminations and vengeful thoughts, Lashing out with clever, witty, cruel remarks… And when the guilt grew intolerable, I lashed out in animal fury. A restless night of tossing and turning, and wishing The bitter conversation had not happened at all, Wishing we could somehow wipe the slate clean And re-establish a peace where neither of us Would feel defeated or rubbished Or guilty. A night of wishing for warmth and love and forgiveness, And also wishing to strike a blow that brought you to your knees in pain… Wishing to wipe your tears, wishing you would wipe mine… I ponder: What part was your fault, and what must I own up? Should I have said what I said? Should I have said it all with the viciousness that I did? And yet, given what you said and did ...