I am alive in 21st Century America. I have a voice. Let it serve as a corrective to the violent and reckless power that stands against the force of love.

Is God being or pure force? The windOr what commands it? When our lives slowAnd we can hold all that we love, it sprawlsIn our laps like a gangly doll. When the stormKicks up and nothing is ours, we go chasingAfter all we’re certain to lose, so alive—Faces radiant with panic.

Is it strange to say love is a language Few practice, but all, or near all speak?

How wonderful would it be if trust, or even love, might be possible between any of us — or even all of us. I mean, if we let ourselves believe such a thing is possible.