May-be

Maybe it started with a petition
or clicking ‘like’ on a post,
by a friend
who you always think of as a bit quirky,
but fair-minded…
Maybe it was when you shared the post,
joined an online group,
said you’d attend an event
… actually attended an event?

Maybe these gateway steps brought you hesitantly to put your feet,
one in front of other onto streets,
streets now echoing with ownership.
Never having considered: whose streets?
let alone the actually true answer: OUR streets.

Maybe from there it went
in-tents,
surrounded
by unusual,
not common…
yet natural
yet familiar
sounds of humanity
stretching at its edges?
Voices calling, shouting, whispering, hissing
pleaing, preying, hoping, begging
…from personal, profound, perplexing, passionate
extremes;
tearing at seams
that once held
us all a-part.
Sections,
unsectioning.
Messy
mismatched
matchings
forming
in nonconformists shapes
of people
JUST people
…who once
signed a petition
liked a post
shared a post…
made the most of the journey to
‘out of here’

Maybe it was then that the activist broke through?