Below and Beyond War
by Susan Freiss
How removed are we
from the newest attacks
and counter attacks?
How removed from terror
and souls jettisoning
from precious particular lives?
How removed from the slow violence
of oppression accelerated
into vengeance and revenge?
How removed from histories
of humiliation begetting
humiliating deathly harm?
Just how removed?
Or, better we ask,
how are we removed?
By thousand of miles
and buffering beliefs
that they are there anguished,
captive, petrified
and we are not?
Eyes open we feel
that buffer’s permeability
and see the illusion of our distance,
our horror ready reverberation.
Hands tremor helplessly,
aspiration for justice caught
in our throats, we sink,
let reverberation
draw us into the well
of our connection
and hold vigil
below and beyond war
allowing the convulsing,
the death rattling, the unhinging
to break our hearts open—
again, again, again
Ineffable the malevolence
of histories of oppression
and virulent racism
into which I was born
and more and more wittingly
have lived, white girl
with so little sense of self,
white woman at home
in the woods and fields
of the seemingly calm Midwest,
mothering, befriending.
Learning, following
atrocities I meet dismay
her emanations of despair
my own and yours
along our lines of connection
empathic distress stirs
tears brought to the woods
and fields and there, sure enough,
F-35s, metal death machines,
practice overhead,
grass and trees hold vigil.
We cannot pretend
this not part of that
or that is not part of this.
Voices will not be silenced
that object to genocide
though our country has
tried and tried.
The rhythm of vigil is
breaking open
throbbing, pulsing, emanating
below and beyond war.
Susan Freiss: I wrote the first section of this poem in the days immediately after October 7. The second section was born of living within the first. May the meaning and experience of vigil ever deepen our compassion and understanding of each other and of all suffering the consequences of war.