(Obama Returns Fire After China Slams Fed Move) I’m behind the walls, too. In the wake of division, I try to peer over, but can’t. I try to climb over, towering walls, trenches, barriers, hills and rivers and nearly make it before I’m called back. The stamp of boots brings me to trembling, to remembering, what of goodness? If I ascend the walls, what’s there for me on the other side, the end of hatred, murder, rape and war? Is it possible to escape the exhibition? I’m tired of the clatter and clack of teeth and gunfire, the moans of shattered children, I want to scale the walls, escape the noise. But I've been summoned, called back to grapple another day or fetch laughter from clinched jaws. I cannot exit now, the stakes are too high, like a razor-blade held against my tightening throat. Man’s kinship is breathing near the heart of truth. It is panting, eager and trembling near the stone that weighs down love and hides my joy. The walls push me back. The barricades are lik
(The Weaver's Song)