A poem for turning the clocks forward during disaster

Somehow, still, hope

A poem for turning the clocks forward during disaster

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedText within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

three birds on tree branch during daytime
Photo by Sreenivas

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published(Originally posted March 9th, 2025)

The birds are singing—
what a grace!

We are destroying the earth,
destroying democracy

We hate and hurt each other—
listen, the birds

Are singing, and the sun sets
later and later

I should be filled with despair,
should I not?

But the house is filled with light
and the birds are singing

And my heart, despite everything
my heart soars with hope

Listen. I’m trying to tell you—
The birds are singing

Don’t be afraid.


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