"Wage your sorrows as blankets for the shivering.
The thought that my sorrow could be useful to another
is something I have not considered. I would like it to be true.
This lets sorrow have its full range, even though it seems a stretch
to actually end one's shivering.
"Wage your despair [to] feed the fire of hope."
Yes, feeding the fire of hope.
My despair is plentiful and ready to blaze.
"Build bridges for the repentants, for the returning.
Yes, even them. Wage an open hand in forgiveness."
These are the lines that propel me to share this poem.
I confess to a certain amount of cynicism given
our history in this country. May our forgiveness
bring about truth and fairness.
May it not feed a fire of revenge.
Wage yourself against the evidence of dying,
and give life to another."
We are all in the process of dying...
bringing joy and gratitude
into the gravest of situations
is resistance of the bravest kind.
It is everything.
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