In honor of Earth Day. In honor of the actual earth. In honor of you and me and the difference between stewardship and ownership. In honor of not believing the lie that making money is worth any other cost.
The top 1% of Americans hold 40% of the nations wealth while the bottom 80% hold only 7% of the nations wealth. It’s all so wrong.
you are more than your failures or the work you produce
more than your reflection and shadows and silhouettes
you are finding yourself
seeping from the spaces between your memories
far from the place you thought was home
you are awakening
rising
becoming
you are struggling and feeling and believing and trying
because you know that buried under all of your forms
there is truth that will change everything
Dear body,
I’m sorry for taking you for granted and for failing to appreciate your resilience and unfailing service. I’m sorry for all of the times that I ignored your needs and gave you coffee instead of sleep. I’m sorry for hating you and for when I forget that you did not come from a generic human template, but that you took form at the very fingertips of God. I’m sorry for all of the too-much and not-enough. I’m sorry for leaving you inside and in hiding, cross-legged, aching, and stiff, kept from the kiss of the sun and the breeze of a new season. I’m sorry for not loving you well and for thinking that other people could love you for me; for leaving you in places from which I cannot get you back.
I am looking for the thing in itself.
For meaning not wealth.
The lover held jealously.
What else did we leave in 1917?
(Source: semiluminous, via greenlikebathwater)
I wonder if my time spent betrays me and my words; the ones I use to explain why the effort will be worth it. I wonder if the small moments that settle and grow between everything hold more truth than the place that I thought I wanted to go.
