The Enemy
Or: To a Non-Friend
©By Vijaya Sundaram
April 11th, 2013
This is the day I was surprised.
It’s not my skin-tingling recoil
That surprised me when I saw you.
It’s not my memory of all
The little jabs and major stabs
That you aimed so casually and
So shamelessly at my open
Heart through all these years that we had
Passed each other grim, unsmiling.
It’s not your mockery and your
Usual barely suppressed malice
Which made me stop in my tracks and
Caused me almost to forget
Forget the injuries, insults …
Incalculable pain that you’ve
Caused me, making me want to die,
Washing the rocks on some hillside.
No, it’s not any of those things.
It’s that today, you were not well.
And, in sickness, your laughter bloomed.
You were vulnerable, you were
Shorn of bluster, you were truly
There, truly true, truly open.
You were without defense, or hate.
And you were giddy, funny, good.
And I felt for you a great rush
Of affection, of empathy,
Which bore me away on fair winds
Which made me laugh with you today.
Which made me feel for you, for you,
Of all people, you, who have hurt,
Insulted, derided, questioned,
Rumored, destroyed, rebuilt, torn down.
You altered your face. No longer
Bitter nor hateful, no longer
Jealous nor spiteful. You were real.
You were funny. You were open.
Laughing, you changed all you had been
For one moment, in the blessing
Of the spring, the sunshine pouring
Down on us, through ceilings and roof.
This is what surprised me today.
~~~~~~~~~~~~ The End~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~