The divide widens.
We don’t see eye to eye.
We can argue that it’s about pace and not about end results, or that it’s about the execution not the desired outcome.
You work hard to convince me. I do my best to change your mind.
But our eyes.
The divide widens, and now —one of us on tippy toes and the other bending over —we can’t see eye to eye.
Who’s right when nobody’s wrong?
The dog chases her tail as the conversation bogs down with two many words, not enough ears.
Where are our ears?
Tippy toes and bent waist. Can you hear me now?
Can you hear me?
Our words miss the ears and sink into the swamp of emotions. We’re too bothered with the muck to remember what’s at stake, who’s at risk.
I’ve had it!
What’s the point?
Remember the point?
Let’s do more than agree to disagree. Can we be stubborn about one thing? Let’s stay in conversation. Stay open in all things: ears, head, heart, eyes. Let’s discover what’s in the heart that connects us. Let’s sit still on stable pilings —the integrity of good reason —and listen to the dripping in a still swamp.
Still. Unmoving. Still. Patient. Still. Quiet.
Let’s be stubborn in this discomfort. Stubborn enough to heal, to listen, and to build the connections that bridge the divide.
©Pennie Nichols. All Rights Reserved. 2024
Pennie, I like your poem/essay? a lot. It is really good. Thanks. Peggy
Thanks, Peggy!
I’ve never known our country to be so divided. But you’re right about disagreements. We should keep talking and not let silence become a huge wall between us. Sigh. So many walls.
It’s hard work and needs to start with us, I mean, specifically, middle-aged white women. We need to bridge that divide.