Even on days pushed on by wind and rain,
outlooks clear up. Even if skies do not part
overhead, inside they shine out. Sunlight
and love is there for all, waiting like creek beds,
golden nuggets, little suns, swirling in clouds
in pans, as late-run salmon swivel past bo
(more)ots
of prospectors, toward the mouth of hope
and future, as rain spreads pepper over water.
To all I offer apology. Words are not words:
they are stained glass windows into the soul,
and every soul deserves to be heard. Speak
loudly or softly into the keypad, but say it.
Language is the gateway to more, the extension
that connects one to another to another. Fill this
box with your window, because every window
shines whether the prose is dark or light. Say it
so you can remember it, and others will join
your memory to their memory, on back to the hub,
where the spark first sparked humanity into flight.
And with that, I leave you to flying, to sun, to love
even if the word makes you puke cynically; it is there
once you find it, and when you find it, the world
is new, it is bright, even on stormy days. Feeling
you only feel once you feel it. So feel it, and others
will follow your feeling and add it to their feeling,
until all are felt from near or distance. Embrace
your humanity and all humanity, for humanity is
what sets us apart from the animals, what makes us
who we are and what we hope to be: better people.
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