By and large I sense they're all reverting
back to primitive indulgences of hobbesian violence, the ferocious world in which they dwell.
They throw cornerstones of their belief system at me, blind sighted rocks dig under my skin.
In defense of love I counterattack.
Pointless to fight their undercurrent of anger,
the immense self hatred from which they teach.
I just see their world as very different,
warm detachment serves me as they seethe.
Maybe the truth is they’re hurting.
Maybe a deeper truth, they only hurt themselves.
Yet I must never interfere with their pain, they are not my burden.
My only goal is to step back.
Mindful to watch their devotion to hateful monsters,
these separated souls I someday hope to reach.
Yet a patient loving mind feels no deterrent,
so I only give them space in which to breathe.
Copyright © Yoni Dvorkis