Not My Tribe
I am appalled once more, at what I heard, when we returned to our shores. A rancor, clamor and discordance, like captive farm animals, rather than free men. Yet in the middle of it ring our voices, the ones that make a heart rise and my tribe is recognized, even as a voice in turn rings out: “Not my tribe” to those others, and I turn away in response. The stark sound of it wakened me, and I recognized it as being the voice of my own heart. We become what we connect to. Let mine be with the sea,