Our Bodies Are Not Our Own

 

After Paris I wept. 

I couldn't focus on anything.

Overnight my body went into a great twist.

When I awoke my heart ached for he senseless suffering of it all. 

Was I in this place to revisit a pivotal moment?  

Maybe I was here along with the world to heal?

Maybe this time I will feel what I don't want to feel.

Maybe the numbness will melt away so truth will show her face.

Our bodies are not our own.

Our bodies are a road map of life.

War is our depression.  

Famine is our self deprivation.

Terror is our hatred. 

Our bodies are the world's flesh.

We are made of the same blood, bones and waters that create life.

May we carry life forward together in the name of peace.

May we be one family.

Listen to M Justice read my poem below.