Complicit You

It was warm today. A rain soaked the earth overnight, and while the sun fought to make His presence known, the silver sheen of clouds won out. Still, it was warm…it was comfortable. So we walked…my three children and me. We walked our usual path, seeking snakes that might be fooled by the false Spring, and we listened to the hawk and the blue jay back-and-forth. We sought green and we reflected on puddles. But all the while, my heart was sick. Miles from our home, parents, siblings, significant others, extended families, neighbors, and friends new and old, were making funeral arrangements for their beloveds…seeking answers…listening for answers…reflecting on what had and hadn’t been said, what had and hadn’t been lived…What’s happened to our country? That we could have a president that tweets accusatory condolences and can read a TelePrompTer speech that never once touches on the true issue at hand: gun violence and gun control. Where is the humanity and the empathy? Where is the humility of the president and political figureheads, admitting they’ve failed our country, our families, our children? Own up to your faults. Own up to the fact that money from organizations that demand your silence on gun control is worth more to you than actual, living, breathing human beings. Own up to the fact that you have failed as a government for the people. Own your failures. Apologize. Ask forgiveness and accept that you will be held accountable. And that you will probably not be forgiven. And when the people speak of their experiences…of surviving, of losing a loved one…shut your mouths and actually listen. Hear their words, feel their fear, their pain, their loss. That is when your silence is needed. Your silence and insistence of silencing all who ask about gun control after a mass shooting, is not effective, nor is it acceptable. Your silence is you counting the monetary loss you’d incur if you spoke out against your gun running backers. Complicit money. Complicit you. As we count the lives lost to a completely preventable threat.

E.A. O'Connell

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…no thought did He give…sacrificed me to violence…the light vanquished and my skin shedding…my cold beyond touch…and veins with nothing to give…blood of life, blood of gifts…blood absence…visage of immortality, ageless of face and lightness of foot…anise wings hovering the bed…soul revolving door…the violence waged and the world about me cringed…they feared my being, my unbecoming…I, steadfast and comatose…unsteady waves and blind…paging through the voices…connecting to the memory of vine charcoal smudges, reflecting back the tale of demise, and it’s not simple, not easily defined…my existence questioned, until 3:00am…Genesis…from a death repose, I’m resurrected, gasping for air…teetering, one foot in, one foot out…and I weep not, nor do I register vocally in the pitch of their heartstrings…I merely listen, taking it all in…the phantom sensations…the sewing of a new seam of life…I hear confessions crashing a funeral…I drop communion from my tongue and beat back the mourners…I’m His very sin brought back to life…I’m His abomination and sacrifice…I’m the embodiment and manifestation…The Sin and The Absolution…Death’s compass true north…Lilith’s womb waging war…

E.A. O'Connell