A Call To Learn This Rhythm

Do you see us?

The call comes through, over and over,
across each face no longer with us.

Do not run from this sorrow.

… … …

Will you “mourn with those who mourn”?
It doesn’t mean mourn in your own way while thinking of them.

It goes deeper, and deeper still
stepping outside yourself and your own knowledge and ideas,
stepping across distance with your spirit hands outstretched
sending your mind to an alongside place where you remember

how it is…

not to be able to breathe.

… … …

How it is to lose your sense of safety,
of self, even, because it is no longer (or has never been)
safe to be your Self:

Join hands with the terrified, those who feel hunted, the souls
whose grieving hearts are exploding through each fresh fissure
of too many well-meaning words
coming from a place of empty,
from the need to make a point or make this all go away:
deliverance from vulnerability at the expense of the wounded.


splitting worlds asunder     when once again,

again and again and again,
the unthinkable has happened...

and someone tries to explain it.
Stop trying to explain it. Become a listener. A heart that sees.

Let that sword pierce your own soul.

Let that maternal pang of “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so, so sorry,” escape your own lips.

Let your ideologies be shattered
on the stone of empathy, where you sacrifice your rightness of belief
in order to give love in the expression humanity craves:
even if it breaks the image of the person you are today

in two

through the gravity of kindness and the humility of giving up
tired and tried truth with a capital T...

in exchange for a heart of flesh.

Learn this rhythm:

Love. Love. Love. Love.

… … …

Will you mourn with us? Will you see us now?

The call continues still:


Jamie Bagley