Once

They say broken heart as though it is clean. As though it happens once and is done. They don't have word for the way it can crack again and again, and the way it mends itself when you walk away (crooked). Our language holds no description for an exhaustive, silent splintering.

"The darkest way into a heart, is through the part that breaks" - Jeremy Fisher

From Space

When they came back from space
they spoke of the Earth
How it looked,
so clear and surprisingly open.
No telling frontiers
Just vast lands and wild seas.

I think maybe this is true of the heart
Held within the fence of ribs
and unyielding bone
Surrounded by the judgmental
whispering of the blood.

But the heart itself is smooth and borderless
Each joyful beat a boundary-breaking freedom that cries
Love, Love, Love

What they tell you is wrong

I've always been an idealist. I believe that justice is possible, that humans are naturally built for caring, that equality and natural balance and peace are utterly attainable ends. And for practically as long as I have been a determined idealist, people have tried to stamp it out of me. High school teachers, fellow students, well intentioned adults, friends. Their cynicism and disgust was supposed to protect me, to remind me that life cannot be what it seems from my privileged position. And so, to these misguided, jaded people I say this: stop talking. My idealism might be unreasonable, but you know what? The world needs it. It needs me and every other idealistic citizen (including you) it can get to demand social justice and environmental action and then work for it.

 A few weeks ago I watched Vandana Shiva take the stage, and in a few short sentences, illuminate the world that I want to be a part of. A world of never-ending human capacity for empathy and community. A world where what is grown is sacred, where neighbours are family, where food is savoured and time is wasted and love is tangible and fellowship is inescapable. As Vandana Shiva said, never, in the history of human kind, has what is evil persisted. Joy persists. Hope persists. Faith and hard work and tremendous trust persist. Love persists. And in that understanding, we idealists cannot fail. There will always be those who believe that the world is beautiful, those who can never be bought, those whose courage is unwavering, whose passion is unstoppable and who, with unreserved joy, will continue to sing the praises of our only home, always. This is a tidal wave, a storm surge, a revolution. This is a homecoming. Count yourself in, friends. 

Of course it's idealistic. Of course it's unreasonable. Of course it's true.