There is a pause. An exhale. A release.
Behind there is a tiredness.
A feeling we can rest, for a moment at least,
Under no illusions magic arises from the ballot box,
aware that love takes work,
aware that love is always the one “
to pick through the rubble
and find life, the survivors,
always the one left to do the rebuilding.
But for now the pause, the release
is reason enough
About this poem.
The last four years have been hard for people of my ilk, who really do believe love and kindness are the way. My mind is still awhirl at all that has happened in the past four years, all the damage, anger, and the culmination of that anger on the invasion of the Capitol last week.
A change in administration cannot change everything with a magic wand. But still, for a moment, I, and millions like me, can rest from the anger on both sides, for just a moment before we get to the work of it all.