Poetry

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Potential

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One. Quantum radiating pulse, weaving beat, marching in protest, sitting still in love. One blade of grass dancing on summer’s breath, grounded in fecund soil, rippling soft reflecting light of patch and field. Drop of water pooling down rocky slope rushing over fall. One voice ascending crescendos of rapture into bliss. 

I am quanta radiating a beat, marching forward in love. We are reflecting well lit roots rising on the joy of summer’s breath, flowing energy defining light.

We are love. Sparkling eyes lighting smiles moving through doors held open in gratitude. Hands warming shoulders bent forward in grief. Tender arms enveloping hearts wounded with slurs and platitudes. Susurrations warming ears weary under echoes of hate.

We know beauty. Tulip buds breaking ground in spring. Sunsets surrounding storms. A single chime wandering on the wind. Acoustic curves winding round voices raised in joy and praise. Gentle hands holding circles of open arms.

We grow strength. Conscious witnesses stepping forward. Standing upright into challenges, learning more about ourselves. Our elbows linked, hearts shining aloud.

We are love. On cacophonous cascade, we recognize and we rise.