Grief in my heart like a stone.
Fear in my throat like a noose.
Hopelessness envelopes me like a cloak.

Do not push me so quick to fight.
Do not give me new age rhetoric about hope and light and
starting the good fight in earnest.
First, I must grieve for
there is no fight in me in the moment.

I must howl for my darker skinned cousins,
I must grasp the hands of my sisters
I must cry for the rivers and the sky
I must weep for the coyotes, the ferrets, the lions
I must grieve what surely is to come.

But tomorrow.
Tomorrow I will turn my gaze towards beauty
and goodness
I will,
once again,
be humbled by the majesty of the snowcapped mountains.
I will sing my devotion to that which is bigger than this mess we’ve made.
I will smile at my neighbors,
and hold my arms open wide
even to the ones in MAGA hats
because I refuse to let their hate occupy my heart.

So, yes, tonight I grieve,
and tomorrow,
tomorrow I will surrender again
To the truth of my own loving heart.