I don't get angry very often. I'm usually just willing to go straight to scared or sad, which are so often the source of our angry feelings. And also, I'm just wired more for water than for fire.
(If you are a friend who leans toward fiery, please know that I need this energy in my life. We need each other.)
But a couple of weeks ago, I just got pissed and wrote this in a fury. And in the days since, I've watched those in power live this out, trying, even in a communal disaster, to preserve their own wealth and might.
Today, I'm afraid. Afraid of the news of people dying alone. Afraid of scarce resources and societal change. Afraid of the tickle at the back of my own throat.And I'm afraid that I will use my own power to hoard instead of share. If today, you're afraid or angry or both like I am, this is for us.
The angry psalms are making a lot of sense right now
And then your storehouses burned down in the night
and you didn’t die but came begging
from the ones you’d robbed to fill them
And they fed you, we fed you because
that’s. what. we. do. but you looked
when we brought out our food
from where we kept it
and in the night you came back and took it
Took the flour we meant for our children
and the oil that ran out no matter
how we prayed
and we couldn’t stop you because
you’d taken the strong ones away
to work in your fields which had been ours
until you took them too and left
the sick behind broken
with no way to walk after
You divided our land
and let your warriors separate us
and some of us didn’t notice until it was too late
but some of us have been keening all along
And I know we’re all meant to be in this together
but you chose not to be one of us
you thought your hoard could keep you safe
but we are not safe unless we are safe together
and we will not be safe together until
we are willing to be in pain together
and I want to look you in the eyes and say
Does it really feel safe to be this alone?
So now here we are
with wheat for one last loaf of bread
and no one here to multiply it for us
and you are saying, “By law that loaf is mine”
even though we all know
you are the one who made the law
that claims this provision
you with the greedy hands and empty eyes
you who gather a double portion
just to keep it away from us
And I don’t know how this story ends
It might end with your transformation
or with many needless deaths
and a cloud of grief over all we love
but the ending that scares me most
is the one where I am so afraid
I snatch the meal from you
lay it down in the soil where it grew freely
and turn our bread to bricks
for the wall of my own storehouse
~Bethany Lee ©2020
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