THE LANGUAGE OF THE OPPRESSOR

"this is the oppressor's language
yet I need it to talk to you"
--Adrienne Rich, "The Burning of Paper Instead of Children".

This is the language of the oppressor,
turned back against him.
This is the cry of the heart,
echoing in a vast proximity
where truth haunts the shadows,
and lies brazenly strut their stuff.

This is me talking to you
but it is also me talking to me,
and you talking to you,
in the language of the oppressor,
where true north is the
magnetic pole of evil
and all compass points are void.

This is the pitchfork of the heart,
calling for the harvest.
Where there is no season,
this is Spring cleaning.
Here, there is no up or down,
and we are only defined,
in our need and interdependence,
with reference to each other
and to the earth.

Here, right and left are
distant memories,
and we no longer know
our names, or any names at all.

Here, haunted by the stench
of greed, we will find a place
for love, and a refuge for life.
Here, defined by our attractions
and interactions, we will struggle
to find what we missed before.

Here, convulsed by millenia of war,
we will learn to project upon
the universe a vast spasm
of peace,
the shining seed
of hope.

May 14 2016