These Days

© wickerwood

These days I mostly want to be quiet.
Except when I don’t.
What I’m saying is I want to choose.
At the same time, it’s good I’m not left entirely to my own devices.

Just so you know, I’ve opted out of the News for a time.
To protect the integrity of my nervous system.
Too many words, too many words,
Too many… too many…

I’m feeling my way into a new rhythm, a new way.
Don’t rush me, please.
I need to find a clearing alongside the trail where I can stop, catch my breath,
Allow my spirit to catch up.

          There now.
I need to sit squarely before the pain and uncertainty.
See the forests consumed in flame,
Hear the cries of migrant families, the Black woman murdered in her bed.
Feel the plight of the hawksbill, the arctic fox, the leopard.
I need to say their names.   All. Their. Names.

The faces of future generations appear before me.
I squint, searching for an image of the world to come.
I trust the sitting still and waiting is readying me
for what lies ahead; what part I am to play.

In the meantime, know that I’m right here
by the side of the trail.
Ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.

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