Journey to Your Deepest Self

The Elephants and Their Faces

by Kathleen MacGregor It is spring But it is not lightness and joy that Are visiting her today. The daffodils Are blinding in their yellowness And she turns her face away. The crocuses Are unfolding themselves and having a stretch But she walks past them without a sniff. The robins Are feasting and round on worms. So many worms Lay dead, having drowned and are uneaten. If she finds one alive on the walk She picks it up and Carries it to the dirt beside the road. Because a worm she can save. But she can’t save a boy in uniform In a street In a war. She can’t save her sons From all the ways there are to Torture. Be tortured. She can’t stop the relentless Turning of the seasons And in her heart it feels like Winter. And she would like the sky To feel like winter too. Her heart feels like bare Branches, that the trees would be bare too. Remember how we’re all connected? Remember how we’re all one? Remember how killing the whales is killing Ourselves? Are you saying that it is I Who cut the elephants from their faces? Are you telling me That I turn redwood trees Into fences? I don’t want that. I don’t want to do that. How do I stop it? Yes, I am telling you that. I’m so sorry. You have had to feel so small and alone. Please, please forgive me. My unconsciousness. Thank you. For be-coming to my awareness. Thank you for showing me my love. I love...
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