Holding On

What does a Wild Woman do
- what does she hold onto? -

when the news continues to astound:
corrupt government, toxic rhetoric,
conspiracy theories, falsity and lies,

humans committing atrocities

on other humans, bombs dropping
from the skies,
all manner of suffering and trouble,

women and children starving

in the rubble?

We need a Kindness Revolution, she sighs,

trying to find a way
to dull the suffering's cries.
What we really need, she knows,
is leaders who are honourable
and wise.

She turns off the news.

She would like to write a poem

that inspires hope, lifts hearts.

But she is so freaking tired,
where does she even start?
She is old, now, and weary
and often kind of teary.

She has lived several ages,
truth be told,
but never one so toxic
and so heartlessly, relentlessly,
determinedly
cold.

It's the opposite of
 a Kindness Revolution.

But she has always

Lived In Hope,

so that stubborn flame,
while faltering, is

flickering wanly still.
Wild Woman believes
in evolution / revolution;
 always will.
(Give peace a chance.
War is over if you want it.
Let's keep singing it
Until.)

What we hold onto is today:

brilliant summer sun,

wild waves and Stellar jays,

hope and grief all mixed together,
gratitude for all that stays,

because this is where we're at:
inclement weather.

Wild Woman is grateful:

for another generation rising -

(May they be brave!) - for dogs

with wagging tails and smiling eyes.

For Mother Earth, with her trees,

and clouds, her ever-changing skies,

struggling so valiantly to survive,

on which we're blessed

to still be here,
still dreaming,

still alive!

In all the discord,

what does a Wild Woman do?

She prays, she hopes, she dreams.

 Sometimes she cries.

She writes poems of peace

and struggles to be wise,

stretches her rubber soul

to hold both hope and sorrow,
goes to bed and

prays for a Revolution

of Human Consciousness

on the morrow.

 for Mary's prompt at What's Going On:  In Uncertain Times

I tuned up this poem from 2023 because these days I feel so discouraged it is hard to put it into words. Corruption and toxicity are exhausting; one's sense of justice is outraged every day. Hold onto what stays, my friends - hope, and gratitude, and love.