Within the archive of the familiar
there are treasures
there was a time when I trusted the world more
maybe you did too
This image is from then
the before times
when even the skies
were painted with optimism
I saw myself then
an image captured
resting in the vault
my colors had not yet faded
face rounded not yet gaunt
There had been wretchedness before
Ellen’s brother killed in Khe Sahn
my father, death rolling over him as he lay on the old sofa
savage blows to the heart before I was old enough to vote
Now I can see backwards
around corners
see when I believed we could change the world
see when I believed we could choose better futures
What remains after all that came before
is this
you and I, we write our own story
yes, our lives happen around us
there is much beyond our touch
and yet and still
when we choose the words to say what we are
the entire language is spread before us
In the song we sang
words described us lifting our feet up
setting them down hard
stomping the grapes of wrath into wine
truth marching on
to overcome
that is our one job
our reward, the ineffable natural world
where twice a day the sky is alight
where mighty trees bloom out in cascades of tiny flowers
laughter has no words
hope lives
love conquers
peace is finding a way
#NaPoWriMo
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