‘The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;’
Another shooting in America.
None of us are innocent.
We have all committed sins
of various kinds – mostly petty –
we have lied to ease things through,
we’ve borrowed books we’ve never given back,
we’ve sung hymns, while thinking
of our neighbour’s slow rolling walk,
we’ve cheated in a test,
we’ve turned aside in fear,
walked on the other side of the street
so we can say we never saw the pain,
But maybe we are innocent enough
for this messy world, of petty
cruelties, and complex lives,
of smuts and smears and yearnings,
and unmet needs, and deep unsatisfied
desires, this world of getting on
and getting by,
and this blood – spilled on sidewalks,
pooling on classroom floors,
smeared on church walls –
this blood is our blood,
and our blood is innocent.
It’s Day 8. Jane assures me I don’t have to be here – it’s entirely optional. A darker quote today, and there was only one way this was going for me.