As a child, I learned that kindness could cure the snakebite of others’ poisonous actions.
That was so many moons and wars ago.
Wars started by humans and wars that got humans thinking maybe our shared gardens would bloom better with wisteria than wounds.
And so goes this battle for decency and democracy, beginning again amidst its many unendings.
Some endure these conflicts by standing firm in their hate while I exchange shadows with strangers to feel how others move through their lives.
Our shared humanity hasn’t disappeared;
it’s simply huddled in a bomb shelter at the intersection of insurrection and serenity.