Heracles' lament?

U2 could be no more apt on this day with their

‘The heart is a bloom, shoots up through the stony ground’

As the global faces of the global patriotism sail past

The pseudopanax, the succulent, the condensation drippy windows

In this glorious new day of Aro Valley.

I rise to the occasion with the exhaustion,

But a strange sense of akin with my younger self

The 10 year old, who after witnessing her father’s first angiogram,

Sat comfortably on the floor of her home with her safe and secure parents

Watching the Sydney Olympic Opening Ceremony.

It is more than that;

I have been reminded of the reclusive self I used to be,

Happy in her own world, but so unconscious of the joy other people could bring of late.

On this day I understand that feeling,

Today I hibernate, ironically,

But, other days bring revelry in other’s company from wakening till the soft voices of musical instruments that bring golden slumbers.

The ache bears so heavily on my tired, un-experienced shoulders at times

As did last night

When while I was reading a menu

I realized I was out of focus consciously;

My week slowly erased from my vision,

My burdenous body to be laid to rest

I was tired.

I digress.

Being told to make an ‘indelible mark on history’ I nod submissively,

To the indelible mark the Olympics may make makes me ruminate.

The colonial power that Britain was and is,

Every time reminded in every moment where ‘billions’ look Britain-ward.

Can the mass be so gullible to believe that colonisation no longer sees breath?

From the moment the French translation precedes the global language English (a result of colonisation to be sure in itself);

To the moment of union jacks sailing high on just so many flags,

To the fragile moment when I am in turmoil as to whether I should continue reading

‘Healing Our History’

which tells tales of, perhaps,

An un-transformable human anger?

How can genocide be so concurrent with our present lives?

How can £10 billion be justified with such annihilating disparity?

It is no surprise, perhaps, given our blindness.

How can the £10 billion be so thinly veiled by the powered members of Poverty, courage, peace, integrity, harmony, champion of the earth, spiritual strength all carrying the Olympic flag?

The naive 10 year old cannot delve deep enough,

But now, the heart is a bloom, having shot through the stony ground.