Lantern Heart
Some days
the world feels like a siren
that never quite switches off.
Headlines flicker
like distant fires
and I stand in my kitchen
holding a cup of tea
wondering
how can we do this
to each other
How can hands built for holding
learn to strike
How can mouths shaped for lullabies
learn to spit stones
Children sleep under broken skies
while men in suits argue over maps
as if lines were worth more than lives
And my chest
small and human
tries to contain it all
I was not built
to carry continents of grief
yet I feel them
pressing against my ribs
Still
there is a woman
feeding birds in the morning rain
there is a stranger
who kneels to tie a child’s loose lace
there is a nurse
who smooths a blanket
as if it were sacred cloth
The news does not linger there
but I do
Because I have seen
how kindness moves
not as thunder
but as a ripple
touching one shore
then another
Respect is quiet
Equality is patient
They grow like roots
in the dark
before anyone notices the tree
I cannot command the powerful
I cannot silence the cruel
But I can refuse
to become hard
I can speak gently
when sharpness would be easier
I can listen
when turning away would be simpler
I can write
so that someone somewhere
feels less alone
Perhaps the world is not saved
by one great blaze of goodness
Perhaps it is saved
by lantern hearts
that choose
again and again
not to go out
And so
when the siren rises
I place my palm against my chest
and whisper
be the ripple
be the root
be the light you are waiting for.
JH
Julan62 