The rest of us

We are one,
all of us,
ends of the same wire thrumming,
all fingers of one hand,
needing each other.
What is this strange lurch within,
this weight of unease,
what is this ache of dread and sorrow,
this fire, this hope,
but the cry of the rest of us?
The imprisoned and detained,
the maimed, defamed and misnamed,
the faces on the other side of the wall,
they are not strangers at all,
but the rest of us.

What is it in us
that wants to cut off ourselves
from ourselves?
Only they can save us,
our own secret selves in the dark.
Their suffering and their energy is ours
when we take to the streets to find them,
when we tear down the walls
and unbind them.

Pray for those whose lives are broken
by our brokenness.
Pray, and reach out,
until we become each other,
and are whole.