If there is only the northern wind that carries through the heat
If there is only a hand to hold before the raft sinks
If there is only a baby’s shoe left in the rubble
Still there is life / still there is life
A small strand to tug on, if only an inch
Feel it before it’s visible
Delicate and fragile, but there
Enough to grab so we hold
A deepened worthiness to exist
In the daggered jaws of tragedy
In the bountiful bosom of beauty
In the grotesque cruelty of greed
This life with dandelions and dragon flies
The creatures with sharp teeth and soft bellies
There is goodness in the small gestures of small hands
There is evil in the large steps of man’s large feet
Walking backward, crawling forward
The tug of eternity
The tension of humanity
The meeting point of now
Still, we eat our greens
Paint the house a cobalt blue
Sweep the floors to make love on it later
There is a familiarity to the wants of the body
The trust that goes unnoticed because its ever present
The mind becomes a busy wizard spinning gold
Transforms horror into epiphany
Makes a story out of struggle
Devises a way in for a way out
Peace after bloodied knuckles
Renaissance follows the Black Death
Togetherness post-apartheid
Dinner during napalm skies
We march on because we're made to
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