Bombardments, I see them in the distance, but realise that only a selected few know that truth. I am a see’er. It sounds mystical, because I am. And we – I’ve not knowingly met another one, but I know they exist – are. Mystical.
It takes a village. Bombardments seen in the distance.
See’ers are trained to be indifferent. Not on the outside, but in. Indifferent to indifference to everything they see. I mostly hear (which is odd being a see’er).
It takes a village,
it takes a village.
The others – the see’ers who I’ve not met, but know they exist – want me to be quiet, not on the outside, but in. ‘Keep quiet‘. Well, for me at least.
Bombardments, I see them in the distance, but now realise that only a selected few want to know that truth.
It took a village to keep us quiet.

Take me to a vast and open field and with my last elegy being read, release my ashes as you set me free, free in death, to run with the wind. No, tears you will not cry – at least not tears of death; but cry for me tears of birth. Like a new born emancipated from the womb taking its first breath, I will be liberated to take breaths elsewhere.