‽istis ponders from
a distance and from very close up (weekending February 26th 2022)
From the height of the tallest buildings in Kyiv and in Moscow, looking down, ‽istis cannot tell your nationality, your age, your gender identity, your skin colour, your heritage, your sexuality, your politics, your faith or lack of it, your abilities, your class or social status, your wealth or poverty, your intelligence, your education history or lack of it, your past, your integrity, your levels of compassion, your secrets, your regrets, your hopes and aspirations. From not very high above the ground, perhaps that which differentiates us, which so often separates you from me - maybe just cannot be seen.
Looking at your
blood, spilt from a body miraculous in its complexity, ‽istis cannot tell your nationality, your age, your gender identity, your
skin colour, your heritage, your sexuality, your politics, your faith or lack
of it, your abilities, your class or social status, your wealth or poverty, your
intelligence, your education history or lack of it, your past, your integrity, your
levels of compassion, your secrets, your regrets, your hopes and aspirations. From
no distance at all, from where your life soaked into the ground, possibly that
which differentiates us, which so often separates you from me - maybe just cannot be seen.
‽ How far apart
do we have to be to call each other enemies?
‽ How close do we
have to be to call each other friends?
© Pistis
NB: further reflections and comments linked to this week’s theme
and past blog
entries to be found on Twitter: replies, retweets (which don’t
necessarily indicate approval, sometimes the very opposite!) and ‘likes’:
@Pistis_wonders. ‘Follows’ and respectful comment and dialogue welcome...
