URGENCY

As critical mass weighs heavy, I am reminded that hope is cupped in an illuminated hand.

The garden smells of jasmine.
The dog smells of rosemary.
My guitar smells of warm wood.
I am trying to find peace in the face of fear.

The world is shaking, trembling with acceleration.
Urgency — it has become the song of the nation.

I hear the crickets
and traffic
and power…
I hear the forceful flight of the helicopter.
Urgency.

I have also been shown that cacophony will turn into harmony even when faced with immutable forces —
the mountain
the traffic
the desire to dream…

Urgency.

Being stopped is not stillness.

Retreat.

Breathe.