At what point do we become guilty when we sit on the sidelines? At what age or level of vulnerability are we honor-bound to intervene? How can we accept the murder of innocent children while we watch, All the while protesting conception control for their war-weary mothers? How can we march against abortion without offering our own homes? Aren't all guilty of continued abuse when they protect themselves with pretense?
The bile that rises in my throat when others offer prayers to their personal god Threatens to choke and kill me with every prayer offered to their deity. How smug they are in believing that their supplications have power, As if they have the secrets that those born to lesser circumstances lack. I ask for the opportunity to stand with a mother of different color and culture As she stands before a jury of the white wealthy who are supposed to be her peers.
I am weary unto death of those who cluck disapproval while denying solutions. How many masks and costumes must I continue to wear as camouflage, As I infiltrate the hatred that has been accepted as patriotism and Christianity? I am becoming increasingly unable to smile sweetly as they betray me By allowing others to dishonor me while in their celebrations and in their homes. I don't ask for them to change, but can no longer act as if they are my trusted family.
How sad it is to continue to spend life as a loop of unending personal loss; My consolation is in my belief that all memories are parts of eternal energy. As long as I stop allowing others to attack me, I can preserve what was positive. The lesson we must learn in adult relationships is that we can control our vulnerability. It is our duty as adult guardians of trust to protect the sacred innocence of others. How can we continue to save our own skins at the expense of all earthly innocence?
I have a voice; I will use it to expose the hypocrisy and fraud of those in power. I fear not for my own safety; I have completed my mission of motherhood. There is no power on earth stronger than one that lives for future generations, Knowing that only they can become focused, not only on now, but on eternity. What greater gift can I have in my waning years than to be a trusted elder, And use the pain that I suffered to help empower a young person's energy?
In addition to my voice, I'm available and willing to offer my physical self, To stand as a shield between the vulnerable and those who would harm them. Would that I had more than one body to offer as a human shield Knowing that after I do so, I will be attacked by those I protected. Only the youngest children are actually totally innocent of guile; Others will do anything to earn the pretend protection of abusive gods.
Until humans are willing to accept no gods or others who rule with fear, Those who refuse to quiver will be martyrs to those that they save. Rather than feeling grateful, they feel as if they have been exposed; In order to feel empowered, they rise up against their shields from harm. The abused are in the arms of the oppressors, and now a favored child. It seems only death will release me from the cycle of second-hand abuse.