Inline at lunch, I cross my fork and spoon to ward off complicity the ordered life our leaders have offered us.
Thin as a knife, our chance to live depends on such a sign while others talk and The Pentagon from the moon is bouncing exact commands:
“Forget your faith; be ready for whatever it takes to win: we face annihilation unless all citizens get in line.” I bow and cross my fork and spoon: somewhere other citizens more fearfully bow in a place terrorized by their kind of oppressive state.
Our signs both mean, “You hostages over there will never be slaughtered by my act.” Our vows cross: never to kill and call it fate.
~ Objector – William Stafford
Perhaps a timely thought for American 🗽
Peace and goodwill