You push.
I push.
We pull.
Division among conquerors,
Struggle to maintain.
Avoiding, afraid, of a life so mundane.
What if the world gathered
in connected places.
The peoples of so many different races.
A life less ordinary
is that for which we strive.
A new beginning to a different life.
With love and compassion,
we could be different.
Together, we could be magnificent.
We strive. We thrive. We cry.
Afraid, so very fearful.
To not taste that rain, would be tearful.
Given an opportunity,
so different from anything else.
We approach quietly, long limbed, with stealth.
With caution and even timidity,
Our hearts soar out, almost against our will.
We ask, “Why?!?… Are these for me?” My feet planted, my heart can’t stay still.
So many lives and souls
left to reach.
Our world needs us. They need what we teach.
Can we hold hands,
even if it makes so very little sense.
Can we work together to build love with our essence?
Can we stand tall,
despite all the things that say we shouldn’t?
Should we push, pull, and listen? Loving what we wouldn’t.
A newest beginning
after facing a fall.
Can we grab a new ring, not the brass one at all.
Can we see beyond
our pain and anger?
Can we see the familiar in the heart of a stranger?
How are we different
from others we’ve seen.
This is like being crushed in worlds between.
None of it has
even the slightest lick of logic,
No matter how many Is we dotted and Ts we crossed.
Yet here we as a 3D triangle
we stand,
Alone and yet hand in hand in hand.