and reach

I watch my breath, my frame.
I think worldwide of
people hungry in the mud
faces in cages
heartbeats dead 
families capsizing in escape.

Photo by Aswin Deth on Unsplash.

​When I was young,
hearing my first tragic events,
my response was massive guilt and shame.
I had it okay while lives cracked apart across the world,
in my neighborhood.

And then I hurt myself.
And got addicted to hurting myself.

Now, here, globally, in this country,
cruelty happens daily.

I am healthy. I have enough. More than enough.
I want to help.

Instead of saying,
they suffer so I must suffer,
I want to say
I am at peace, how can they be at peace?

Instead of my limbs paralyzed,
instead of acting against myself,
I can reach out and take care of me
and thereby reach out stronger.

I don't have a lot.
I have enough. 
I can be here for you.
I can sit in the same room as you.
I can listen to your story.
Open up the world for you.
Help you tell your story.
Get people to listen. Or try.
Bring communities together. Try.

I sometimes feel so young.
I doubled my gray hair the last ten weeks. 

Still breathe, still be.
And reach.
Open. Continue to open.