SHAVED HEAD POEM

living in testing times.

most testing times in one

hundred years. pandemic

sweeping through our

world will wipe clean

pages of the human story.

nothing will be unchanged

in its wake. strikes at the core

of what it means to be human.

strikes at the heart

of culture and of civilisation.

culture depends on dialogue

and civilisation depends

on communality.

first time in the history

of the human we’re compelled

to survive on little

contact with each other.

it’s as if the earth, exhausted

with the monstrosities

of our deeds and follies has

pressed the reset button

on humanity by sending

us this nightmare.

for too long now

we’ve wallowed in excess.

we’ve wrought damage

on the world in a relentless

pursuit of wealth.

we’ve taken and taken

exhausted the teats

of mother earth

dried up the wells

of renewal

given ourselves over

to exploitation and to greed.

we’re like the children of israel

whom the prophets

found in orgies,

worshipping graven images.

we have refused to face

the dark truth that our civilisation

has become the greatest

threat to our civilisation.

we’ve become the very

worst enemies we have.

everything we did drove

us towards disaster.

if it hadn’t been this

catastrophe it would’ve

been another.

we’re overdue

an apocalypse. signs

are there in the culture.

we keep dreaming

about it, imagining it

in our novels,

poems, films, plays.

we’re haunted by

an impending apocalypse

because deep down

we know we deserve it,

deep down we know

that we’re racing

towards it with our deeds

and our dreams.

would it take a

true spiritual austerity

forced upon us to see

how bloated our

lives have become,

how empty, and how much

vanity and folly

we conceal from ourselves?

perhaps we travel too

much, polluting the skies

with restlessness

afraid to stay at home

quietly with those we

profess to love.

there’s no need for panic.

for awareness is calm,

acts beyond emotion.

we tend to ramp

up the negatives,

multiply things we fear.

disaster sells.

it’s a mysterious

thing about us

that we respond

much more to fear

than to goodness or love.

it’s a human flaw

we ought to

compensate for.

a virus has entered

our mental sphere.

the plague is everywhere

it’s in our dreams,

it’s on tv,

from it we can’t

be free.

it’s a real contagion

a mental contagion.

it’s destroying

us in nation after nation.

it’s in the air we breathe

it’s in the air we think.

a new contagion is needed

to fight the one that’s seized

our lives. we need a contagion

of courage, health and love.

we need a new

spiritual condition

to fight our fears

fight our panic.

we seldom talk about

a healthy mind

a brave spirit

in our times of crisis.

the mind has its powers

the spirit has its mysteries

its miracles which surprise

the certainties of science.

for times like this

awaken the miraculous

in us. we’re never more

ingenious than when we

act from solidarity.

we’ll survive our

latest armageddon.

but we’ll be marked

by how we got through it.

we will either be raised

by our courage

or degraded by our meanness.

here’s the moment

to rise to the true potential

of our strength,

wisdom, farsightedness.

not just whether

we survive; it’s also

who we become.

it’s not just how we are

in prosperity that reveals us.

it’s how we are when faced

with the ultimate test of all,

the test of death.

once a nation

during the great war rose

to the challenge

of character,

of destiny.

and her response

changed not only

herself but the world.

we’re at such a turning

point in human history.

it was always coming for us.

disaster was always

coming for us.

we’ve overdrawn

on the bank

of our futures.

it’s time to ask questions

that go all the way down

to the depths

of the meaning

of human life

the life of the species

the life of the earth.

our crisis is an opportunity

to change our destiny.

but the quality of that altering

depends on the best

lessons we take

from suffering.

sometimes we take

the worst lessons

from tragedy.

but we’re transformed

most by those who

learned the best ones.

what has happened to us?

our books, art, plays

were measured not

by their inspiration

or how deeply they spoke

to us in the cage

of the human

but by how much

they sold for, how

many copies

were bought,

or how many lowered

their behinds on

the hardened seats.

we lost our way.

we lost the track, the path,

the road, altogether,

and are deep in the land

of moral vacuity,

spiritual emptiness.

we have been listening

to only one loud voice,

that speaks with the power

of a worldwide megaphone,

voice of profit,

gods of success.

so rigged are the goalposts

of values that other voices

are not heard.

they don’t have great

social victories on their side

to prove universally strong

and persuasive. but does that

make them any less valuable?

voices that say they are

human too, and deserve

all the rights

of the human,

rights to health, to education,

to food, jobs, to raising

their families with dignity.

voices that speak

for climate crisis,

that speak not for raising

more walls but for a new

world co-operation.

we have entered the age

of disasters.

the age of narrowness

of heart is over. we

need to redirect our

values higher.

doctrines of hate

have nowhere to take us.

there’s no real destiny

for limited dreams anymore.

we could be at the verge

of a miraculous moment

in which we deliberately

choose and fight for

an upward curve

in our evolutionary

possibilities. but

imagine what could happen to

the world if this crisis

brought about genuine

enlightenment

in our leaders,

in the people,

and if we pressed for change

at a time when we are most

vulnerable to death?

we are in potential

myth-making times.

it’s time to make

a new myth for

humanity.

we could give birth

to a new kind of compassion,

new civic imagination,

new solidarity.

we’re up to it.

it’s why we fail so much,

fumble so much,

and keep clawing

our way back up,

keep moving the human

story further, through indirect,

circuitous ways. our

myths point in two

directions:

towards our fall,

towards our ascension.

that’s the highest

meaning of tragedy.

time to listen.

time to ascend.