There is something heroic about the word ‘enough’
Something subversive about a stop sign
Even a yield on the green lit freeway

There is the moment when you realize it is much too late
to do so much and you give up
Pull off at the next exit toward compromise

There is space between two skyscrapers where the homeless light a fire
Keep warm within the tombs of every city
Bracing against the manmade weather

There is something heroic about a palm held up in ‘no’
I will not give permission today
I will defend my temple

There is the moment you hear them on horseback and see the sand clouds rising
You retreat deep within the temple womb
Grab the altar horns for all they’re worth

When the fury dies down

The colour returns to your knuckles

Your heart beats in half-time

In sync with your breathing

You tear off your necktie and wrap it around a stick
Dip it in anointing oil and light it with the song of God

There is the revelation when you hold your flame to cavern walls
See the ancient drawings of your neighbour
Understand that all of this–all of this–has happened before

photo by Jens Oliver Meiert 

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