The Bridge

I sit in my living room, on this drizzly spring afternoon,
with the comfort of my warm woollen clothes,
and freshly squeezed lemon hot water.

When it rains here, it rains inside the house.

I live in a 1920’s woodsman cottage on the south coast of the north island, where the southerlies are brutal.

Although I am in a somewhat privileged position in many ways,
I am also well aware of what poverty feels like.

It is for this that I create the bridge.

The bridge between poverty and prosperity,
weakness and strength,
community and individuality.

We live in a world where our democratically elected leaders are role models
for racism, misogyny and capitalism.

Where the natural world, our people, animals and plants
are suffering.

I acknowledge the pickings are slim.

We live in a world of extremes,
where information is manipulated, filtered and distorted.

So when it reaches the eyes and ears of the people, seems contradictory,
and creates confusion, righteousness and puritanism.

Either too afraid to speak up, or too stubborn to listen.

It is simply easier to understand the world we live in by categorising information,
into extremes,
right or wrong, good or bad, left or right.

The bridge looks to shine a light,
on the spectrum,
of information in between the extremes.

To start a conversation.

We already have a  sanctioned moral compass,
lets transcend that superficial layer of information,
and dig a little deeper.

What you find underground may look ugly at first appearance,
but spend a little longer in the dirt,
enough to get through the initially layer of cynicism,
and you will come to understand,
that everything you thought you knew,
was wrong.

Or at least incomplete.

The loudest voice has the weakest argument,
and won’t accept defeat.

But accept we must,
acknowledge that we do not know what we do not know.

And break free of our individual echo chambers,
by listening to the opinions of those we thought we opposed.

Build that bridge with one stone at a time,
and you may just find
that the people on the other side,
are actually just like the varying members
of your very own tribe.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s