That thing with feathers
"We are not afraid of night,
Nor days of gloom,
Being walkers with the sun and morning."
From 'Walkers with the dawn' by Langston Hughes
I think about the world a lot these days. I mean, what the hell? The news has become a long litany of place names: Orlando, Baghdad, Dallas, Istanbul, Nice. The list is endless.
I'm sure I could post the same poem week after week, over and over. For we seem to live in the exact times Yeats described in his 'The Second Coming': 'things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.'
But I don't want to. I want to cling to hope, even if it seems elusive or downright illusionary.
I wonder what I can do to change the world or even a tiny bit of it. I wonder if the world even wants to be changed for the tiniest bit. And I know the only thing I can do, is to start right here with myself and try to create a small pond of peace and calm in an otherwise wild and raging see. Be a walker with the dawn, if I can.
And if you look, there are things to be found. In my hometown, there's a project called Dare To Be Grey. They try to break away from polarization, from the eternal yes - no of people who see the world only in black and white. Elsewhere in the Netherlands, a group of people called ieder1 ("every1") wants to organize a big parade to celebrate all our many differences.
I see people complaining on Facebook that muslims never take a stand against terrorism and yet I've seen several Facebook-groups of muslims doing exactly that.
I guess hope, like everything else, is in the eye of the beholder. I chose to look for the light. Not Yeats's slouching beast but Hughes' simple dawn.