A Witness

 I think I learned things….

I learned a way to be patient

That didn’t require leaning on the phone

It is a breath...a step...a focused

Choice

As is

Letting someone in

I think I learned

That things which bring me

Only Me

Joy, also have a deep value

It is not my job to comfort            only

The pain of 

Others 

I learned you need to want

To try

Like an addict needs to want

To heal

Like a racist needs to want

To see

My soundtrack is missing

These long lonely months

I have so few tunes bubbling

Aong the stream of my consciousness

Touch

Is rare

Belly laughs

Nonexistent

Other flesh sensations 

    A bit         beyond buried 

I learned you need to hear

I learned you need to be able to hurt

I learned you need 

To

Be 

      Brave

If even barely baby steps

Are 

Gargantuan

From your vantage point

I think I learned things…

And wonder what about that

Matters

If no one will listen

And then

I wonder

What if you were the voice 

Of the Mother

Who birthed the beginning of

Us 

All 

Unable to share

Unable to prevent

Able only

Beautifully, bleeding along beside us,

To witness

To listen

To both cry and laugh

Alongside us

The River’s incessant, gorgeous

Chatter

The silver smooth voice of birds in

Song

The rustling, gentle rattley 

Whisper

            Of the wheat 

The ice that 

Clinks as it strikes frozen 

Wood 

The sheep that

Bleat a chaotic

     Beat into the night song

If nothing else

To have that,

With someone safe

Watching.