What do we do
when the world cracks open,
when hate and violence
transmute our skies into storms?
We fall back on flowers—
arranging them in vases, lining our window sills.
We read books, sheltering our minds
in nurturing corners of truth.
We water our plants,
hold our children and pets closer to our hearts,
as if love could fortify our dreams.
We sit quietly with those trembling in panic,
reorganize our shelves,
learn new languages—
because understanding can unspool the knots of fear.
We braid each other’s hair,
tell stories in soft whispers,
embrace a little longer.
When existence is flickering like a candle in the wind,
tenderness must be practiced with urgency.
So, we pat backs.
We wipe tears.
We join the prayers of others—
not because we are certain,
but because we are together.
We clean our bedsheets,
draw our curtains wide,
we conserve water,
plant some more trees,
we tell each other how much love we still hold,
despite broken broadcasts
and endless scrolls of despair.
We pacify.
We laugh.
We persevere.
We persist.
What do we do amidst war?
We tend to the small, fragile things—
as if mending the seams of a wall unraveling.
