On Learning to Witness Suffering

A poem of grappling with my inner dynamics upon witnessing suffering

I see people around me suffering,
minds anguishing in the strife
of poverty, illness, addiction, or
the traumas of family and life;

my heart aches, and my mind starts searching
for some sense of a way I can help--
if not this one, then others, and futures,
by the route of some story I tell

about what I think is the "root problem"
or who (perhaps me?) has failed.
My ego devours the story;
the facts are lassoed, twisted, nailed.

Meanwhile, the people still suffer,
and meanwhile, my heart still aches--
I've just buried the feelings in stories
and thus given them even more strength

to drive me blindly and madly,
seeing not others, but me--
until I finally stop trying to "help"
and instead, just listen and see.

It's hard to bear witness to suffering
and to accept my helplessness.
Ego wilts--but awareness blooms
as I walk open-eyed through life's mess.