One

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“We dodged a bullet,” someone said. Is that even possible? Hearts connect and suffering is universal. Escape is illusory. Even if we numb ourselves; avoid the horrific television images, even that is deceptive. Our coastal homes have been ravaged once again and the recovery will be long and grueling. Pray, yes. Help where you can, yes. But remember there is no safety and we are all in this together. We cannot separate ourselves from the suffering of others unless we forget that we are all made from the same spirit. And even if we forget, the spirit that moves through us all never will.

Tangible

The sirens have surfaced again from deep waters.

They don’t care about our beauty or our sex.

They want our firstborn and our ancient ones.

Death is all they crave.

They steal our memories for fuel.

There is no safe place to hide.

Waiting until the cruel waters subside,

 

When calmer winds

Return their hideous screeching,

Disguised as seductive longing,

To the ocean depths

Joining new souls to

Those through centuries of kidnapping are

Stirred to the surface once again.

 

We remember and then forget.

So fragile is life

So tangible is death.

 

© 2017 Bessie Adams Senette

Published by

Bessie Senette

Bessie Senette is nine and a half months pregnant waiting on the birth of Cutting the Clouds: a Bayou Mystic’s Poems, Musings, and Imaginings – an autobiographical collection of poems and essays about the life and culture of her bayou upbringing and the spirituality that informs her traditional healing gifts. 
A high-spirited, creative, solemn, and above all joyous woman, she celebrates her birthday for the entire month of August, otherwise known as the Besstival. Anyone born in August is welcomed as a Besstivite. The High Feast day of the Besstival (Bessie’s actual birthday) is known as the Besstiva. 

When her Muse is not in the mood to muse, she cooks. Bessie’s home is an oasis of hospitality, and yet her husband, Tom, calls it a fortress of solitude. Somehow it works. She works as a supplemental grandmother and primary Mimsie to Eden and Noah, five grand pups and one cat. 
As an ordained minister, she officiates an ecumenical liturgy for a small congregation of like-minded and just “slightly” wacky folk who are lovingly referred to as the Bessbyterians. 
Bessie is a polydactyl poet, born with six toes on her left foot. Some of her friends think she should have a reality TV show but she insists that it would have to be an UnReality show. All are certain the ratings would be astronomical.

4 thoughts on “One”

  1. Bessie, Once again you have gone into the deep shadow with your burning heart and have sown sacred words to express our reality. Thank you!

    Like

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