Poudreflyfish: The River and The Woods

Outside of Coopersmith’s restaurant and bar in old town square, Fort Collins, a group of professors, students, artists and citizens watched as a man was aggravated into a manic rage by Fort Collins police officers. The man was African American, every single one of the ten or so police officers was white, the bystanders were Chicano, Latino, African American, white, Japanese american, and of other ethnic identity. Should these racial differences make any difference in the type of power delegated within our society? Should they be anything but celebrations of beautiful, elegant and compassionate diversity? No. Tonight though, we were all reminded that so many are living in the delusions of racial superiority - are slaves to racism. And in their lustful and unending greed for control and domination over illusion, they spoke lies - and in their wavering tones, became aware of the illusory power to which they cling, like a dying, desperate war criminal grasping as his beliefs topple and he draws his final breath. The others stood together, unified in peace and human justice, treating each other with compassion and generosity. Between the police and the man they were enslaving, and the witnesses was a void of silence. It was as the candle flame that sucks the oxygen out of the air, extinguishing itself - where space and time are forgotten and cease to be, and only the beating hearts of all exist, pumping blood through the cold, night air. And the sadness of those who identified with what we saw, heads hanging, defenseless and vulnerable against everything around them - and the identification with one other - in our humanity. And in the air, a sadder sound - the breaking of hearts. And in its breaking a silence and a deep inner darkness until the breath and the release, and the feeling of compassion, laughter and power. The inspiration and absolute joy of knowing your sisters and brothers are standing by your side and love you from the depths of their bleeding, broken hearts.