The Cost of Enough

We have learned
to call it tolerance
when we refuse
to choose

standing just near enough
to say we were present
close enough to the wound
to speak of it
without ever touching
the heat beneath

we have made a virtue
of distance

we say
I will not judge
and mean
I will not carry

I offer listening 

 not the weight of their sorrow

Their shame 

 I leave them to hold 

 my hands must stay free  

we say
I will love everyone
and mean
love no one 

 enough
 to risk myself

 

There are things
that cannot be preserved
by gentle agreement

truth does not remain
because it is acknowledged
it remains
because someone
refused to release it

We have become careful
with our words

smooth as river glass
weightless in the hand

we pass them
back and forth
polished
harmless

plastic words
offered freely
because they cost us nothing

But I have read
of a man who would not offer
what did not wound him

who understood
that anything given
without cost
was never truly given

Tolerance
asking nothing
keeping nothing

love
risking nothing
changing  nothing

truth
costing nothing
holding nothing

So we stand
with our measured responses
our reasonable restraint
our quiet approvals

 without any fire 

 to show belief remains 

and call it peace

while something vital
slips from our hands
uncontested

We are living 

 in the recompense 

 of half-belief 

We ask for everything 

 while offering nothing 

We have always known 

 you get what you pay for 

And we live 

 as if the cost were enough 

© Ron Simpson Jr.