After Do Not Be Ashamed by Wendell Berry

Unashamed

You can mute yourself at will
Or find you've hit mute in error.

On ocassion you might find
someone has muted you.

You can go off camera.
Observe and listen.
Unseen, unheard.
Ocassionally waving in the hope
that you will be called upon
to contribute
to comment
on the wisdom of others.

And after a while, on realising that
you've gone unnoticed, unneeded,
you give yourself permission
to walk away,
to simply listen in
while making a cup of tea.

And after a while, you walk out,
to test your necessity
and you won't be surprised
to find it wanting.

But then
as you return.
as you choose candour,
bear your inward clarity
raise your yellow hand,
as you select unmute, unashamed
click camera, unashamed
and find room, find voice -
then a sure screen will rise
from the margins and their eyes
will seek you out
and the mic is yours.

I remember peace as it was,
imperfect and flawed but mine to keep.
Rainy days were greeted with awe,
nights were adorned with harmonious sleep.

I remember the sky as it was,
clouded and red but mine to keep.
Hosting the dreams of the millions below
a citadel for lovers dying to meet.

I remember the flowers as they were,
young and naive but mine to keep.
Blooming on a dead man's accord,
his widow, beside, eyeing her treats.

I remember smiles as they were,
corrupted and vile but mine to keep.
They seem much too busy now
aiding the faces in hiding their grief.

I remember freedom as it was,
constrained and limited but mine to keep.
Imprisoned in homes and imprisoned within self,
silence wages wars on my defying speech.

I remember faith as it was,
blind and delusive but mine to keep.
Lost to the times and the wars of men
that laughed at us, finding belief.