Can you hear it?
inside of the the darkness of fear.
protesting in love,
out of windows of ration,
a gaze within lifestyle of passion
city | | | giddy
if only for a minute | if only for a fractioned vision
of outside living.
Inside, is malpracticed-
in need of nourishment that we have already outgrown,
because tolerance was made to be high here.
nearly invincible in spirit.
Then you give them private solitude.
Tell them to learn from all they had within a 15 foot hold.
Very different than the acres that we used to own.
But still, homage is paid to happy home. | No matter where on the globe.
learning to love in little things.
Fold our growth in halved back of hunched pride,
and still love the side | of life | that brings, learning.
Growth focused in love.
So we love the ice | and how it freezes life | in awed thought.
We love the flame for its heated state of passionate reign.
We love the stove in its tribute to hope.
We love the stoop | in tribute to youth.
We love the pots & pans
& bless the hands | that feed our souls
through stories of bold | life
at a different time—
where survival looked very different in land, but,
us, familiar with the stance.
So when the 7 strikes...
we drop all strife, & celebrate life,
with pots and pans, that clank,
as weapons for grand | gestured solidarity.
Can you hear it? | Can you feel it?
Through ice or fire weathered seasons,
On neighborhood stoops, or through living room reverbs
sending vibrational love to our fighters and grievers,
fighting for safety and reasons,
through our tiny window sills of freedom.