sometimes I leave my radio on

all night, allowing the flow

uncensored to enter, knowing

I will intake even the unsavoury—

opinions offered by those whose voices

to whom while awake

I would not wish to lend my ear

reports of horrors unfolding in places

to people I have no chance of saving

Probably this habit is unwise

oblivion and obfuscation are soothers

I might benefit from if only

I could learn to turn off that weak

aspect I cannot seem to reach

My hands will not allow my fingers

to unfold, to turn off the knowing dial

My empathy my horror my sorrow

outrage—-futile as it feels

still that I do feel, is confirmation

enough that I am still human

In the small sphere of this space that

is my privilege to occupy

I seek to be, to strive for better

some small nick of refuge in the chaos

I forage for balance amid cruelty

tune my ears to professors of peace

I stumble into the forest to commune

with the ragged beauty of nature

drink her sacred nectar to sustain me

I travel toward the rhythm of the drum

at the heart of true humanity

and I trust there is some distant day

wherein a pause will occur

a purifying rainfall

a deliverance of calm

a comprehensive gnosis

received in all languages

And then a universal agreement

declaring all lives of intrinsic value

conflict quieted for eternity

Hope dances with Possibility

the hopeful are tireless in our quest🪶