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Politics

By J Ann Crowder

Politics, what say ye?

May you play the game fair?

This is only a wanton wish

A fools hope

My hope

And I grow weary of you, politics

For a fools hope is vain

It does not matter which end of the fence we vie

Lying Devils are your tricks

Your tongue lures in a flock of cheap masked masquerades

I don’t think they see how foolishly they are being taken in

I abide here on this slump, on a moderate molded clay clinging tight to my moderate beliefs, my own independence scathing in the face of channels filled with talking heads and brewing arguments with fingers pointing every which way accept within themselves

I shun those fingers pointing

At the hijab clad woman they point

Don't they realize?  She, is my friend

And they condemn my Jewish friend stumbling upon cracks at her wailing wall

And they hate my Christain friend praying alongside Golgotha’s hill

They don’t hear my own cries begging them to stop with their pointing

I’m her standing at the foot of Golgotha's hill

I’m her spilling my tears across Jerusalem and over Galilea

I’m her, survivor of the crusades, living across river Jordan underneath the shelter of my hijab

We ate supper together and watched our children play

They were happy and conditions did not exist between us

My children ate the rice of the hijab clad woman and touched the hem of her scarf

I listened as she prayed thrice in the day

I listened as if her prayers were songs melding with my own prayers

Our three prayers became one when we climbed to our unconditional love of humanity, bringing sanity to our bleeding ears and hoarse cries

My Jewish friend is no different in my eyes

I cherished her prayers just as I cherished my own

Our prayers reached a destination we all wanted them to arrive

Our words rung in harmonious tune

We prayed for humanity

The colors of our skins and the language of our tongues made no difference

We three cherished our abiding distinctions because we saw our hearts were painted the same color red

We three cherished hearts wishing upon an olive leaf

We grasp olive leaves, careful not to crush them

Politics tells us no

Politics wants to crush our wishes

Politics wants to strangle our olive branches until they no longer breath

True humanitarians pay politics no mind

We vie to plant these olive branches near and far reaching, from continent to continent

Only olive branches can smother crooked fingers pointing every which way accept within themselves

Only olive branches will burry wounds and scars from words pointing like daggers, sharp

As sharp are tongues of hate

Words of love thus sheathes pointed daggers, abating them

Thus I plead with those who may lend wisdom’s ear

Stop turning channels spewing those beliefs of politics and their untruths hypnotizing

Turn them off and listen to hearts speaking truth of solidarity

Truth in the existence of love amongst different persons of thought and religion

Underneath our skins we are all the same

Politics hides the truth from us

The truth is only we three will stomp out evil’s flame

Only if we clench hands and stop being enemies as politics has taught us to do

As her Jihad becomes mine, and I pray with her at her wailing wall, and they both walk with me on the road to Golgotha's hill

In this "bearing the burdens of the other"

In plight and storm

We thrice carry olive branches and their healing salve

We plant them at our homes and across Galalea and Jordan’s ancient river

We plant olive branches in Syria’s fields, nourishing them by ashes left behind

Olive tree blossoms drown out bellows of war cry

They scream aloud into a single droning echo until hate is seen as the hollow pit of nothingness it is

I plead for all to see such power concealed in the olive branch's blossoms and healing oils

Power only wisdom can truly grasp as hearts are tamed by unconditional love

When we grasp hands in this knowledge, politics becomes the farce he is and hate is given back to its damming abyss

Olive branches will then abound in forever song ringing like gentle bells of truth on our ears and on our hearts colored in the same red

I despise stereotypes of all kinds and labels. Our differences should cause appreciation not hate. Wherever there is hate our differences give us advantage over it if we all unite against it. If we don't unite against hate and terrorism, then hate and terrorism win. When we hate each other because of our differences hate and terrorism win. Politics is on neither of our sides, not truly. I wrote this because I am tired of politics dictating how we should feel. We need to find truth by looking within not by looking at news channels and following the media. Written April 4th 2016.

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