Reflections in My Middle Eastern Mirror


Compassion fatigue.
Strange expression.
What is the fatigue?
Too much suffering, 
Too many people crying,
Too many dead bodies, 
Too many people 
Demanding that I love them,
But only them,
That I see only their tears,
As they fall upon the bloodied bodies
That once laughed
and danced
and cheered.
Ask me for compassion
And I will refuse.
Ask me who are you?
Ask a peacemaker,
Look at that goddam mirror,
Do you know any more?
Or does everything bleed red,
In the cracked mirror,
Which you broke,
In a fit of rage?

Ask me again,
Ask me if I am
Ask me, go ahead and dare to ask,
My enraged eyes,
And my bulging neck veins,
And my bloodied cheeks,
Ask me if I Am

Then you will come to me,
Then you will see me,
Then I will see me,
I will find me,
I will find you,
I swear to God,
I will find you,
Whether you want to be found or not,
And I will find them,
And you will find them.
Because compassion is a fiery ghost.
I don’t have it, I cannot, I have none left,
Except an atom that runs my engine.
And that atom, when it splits,
There is endless energy,
For me, for everyone.
I am energy,
I am compassion,
And there is no limit,
And there is no fatigue.
Compassion for everyone,
Or Die. Just die.
You cannot live,
You cannot endure the violence,
You cannot overcome the darkness,
Without splitting the atom of compassion,
That is your soul.

© Marc Gopin