a prayer for/from the unpraying

“Sometimes we are blessed with being able to choose
the time, and the arena, and the manner of our revolution,
but more usually
we must do battle where we are standing.”

- Audre Lorde

***********************************

the dead do not need your platforms to stand

they rest safely on the tongues of millions now

an infinite ring shout

in the language of tears

your agenda was torn and shredded

the way their bodies were as a bullet left them

their hearts held as gently as a firefly

within a child’s cupped palm

I like to imagine that,

in that infinitesimal moment between death and life,

the same warm breath that exhaled them

into this world

spiraled outwards to usher them

into the next.

i also imagine if you asked them now

“what killed you?”

They wouldn’t answer

A gun

Or lack of prayer

Or god

Or godlessness

Or illness

Or laws

Or even hate

I imagine

They might reply

“Oh no, you’ve got it all wrong. 

Don’t you see?

It’s you all dying,

killing each other

with the ammunition of

shame and silence

and the small diluted

everyday violence

of fear”.

leighsteele2012