Tales from death row: Justice for Rodney Reed by Caitlin Adams

Injustice time as of this writing: 5,528 days 132,674 hours

The moon
A mountain
The stars
A wildflower
The clouds
A leaf
The ocean
A stream
The sky
A blade of grass

Never utter a single word,

Yet - oh so, profoundly, express
more in their being
than all the words ever written.

This poem wrote itself yesterday and I woke up this morning thinking about it and words.  All the billions of words, I've thought, spoken, written in my life and how for all the billions they are only an infinitesimally small expression of me.

This led me to thinking about this blog and how I am trying to bring expression to not only me but Rodney—his life, his story, our friendship. The only tool in my toolbox is words; words that, to borrow a few Zen words "only point to" the essence, the real, the depth.  Oh, there is so much more:

The gesture
A nod
The smile
A wink
The tear
A posture
The pause
A breath
The frown
A glance
The furrowed brow
A sigh
The gasp
A trembling lip

And even these with all their meanings, all their nuances, all their complexities, are only a single blade of grass in the meadow that I am, Rodney is, our friendship is.  Yet each blade of grass is essential for the meadow to exist, so I bless each word.  I bless it all.

When I had finished writing this, I was reading John O'Donohue's To Bless the Space Between Us and these words felt so much like a personal blessing:

Though it will be always difficult
To find the words for what you feel,
May you find ease in that awkwardness
Until gradually from  beneath
The gravel of stuttered sounds
The pure flow of you emerges.