I really wish someone else could do the work for me. But we are the only ones who can do the work.
I wrote this poem some time ago. It comes with a sobering truth. It lets go of emotions, hopes, and fears and embraces reality. This could be a very morbid poem, or it could be an entirely liberating one.
I decided to share this as a follow-up to two things.
First was a talk I heard from Stacey Abrams. She said we keep looking for some kind of savior, the way our parents looked to Martin Luther King or to elected officials. But an autocracy can only be interrupted by a great, communal coalition of people.
This is also a good follow-up to the story I shared the other day about the four mountains closing in. See it here:
When we close our eyes, it’s hard to see, so we imagine delusions of our future. When we open our eyes to what’s really here, our path forward becomes clearer.
This is the spirit of awakening. The way of the bodhicitta.
We Are The Ones We’ve Been Waiting For
A poem by Shabazz Larkin
No One is Coming
In the quiet hours of the night,
When shadows dance with fading light,
We search the skies for signs above,
For a hand to guide, and a heart to love.
But the moon remains,
still and far,
No savior riding on a star.
No voice to calm our nightmares and fears,
Not enough cleanex to dry our tears.
Preachers and prophets may whisper ancient stories,
Of heroes bold in days of glory,
But their swords are rust,
their glory dust,
And their movements lie in
the earth’s crust.
No one is coming to save us
but us,
No divine scripture, no martin luther
king to trust.
The god we seek is in our veins,
In blood and bone, in joys and pains.
We are the ones we’ve waited for,
The keepers of our inner chores.
With fists empty, we rise and stand,
Our destiny within our own hand.
Through all the wack news,
we find our way,
if you can hear what I’m saying,
you’ve survived
every day.
Every trial.
Every shade.
Even when you do the job and don’t get paid.
No bricks are needed for the house you made.
Even if you stumble,
your path
is yours
alone,
To make this flesh and bone a home.
No one is coming to save us
but us,
We keep writing and rising as we must.
In our own presence,
we find a god
to trust.
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound.
In the mirror our hope is found.
Our courage blooms,
when our own spirit guides,
Holy is the ground that we abide.
in our own presence, a power lies—
To lift us out of a sleep.
Get up!
No one is coming to wake us up.
There is no wine made from water in our cup.
No one is coming to make us rich
Or pull us out of the darkness ditch
No one is coming to save us
but us,
And us,
my friend,
my son,
my daughter,
my love,
The resilience in US is a truth to trust.
Get up!
No one is coming to save us
but
us.
