This is your friendly reminder - of what it felt like to close the binder.
To keep all the things you needed for a topic, and stop it from bleeding into every part of your day. Back when you knew how to say, “Let’s go”

And you’d let go, breathing slow or maybe even faster, after something beyond the news cycle
Because it’s more like a spin cycle, and I’m not talking laundry -
even though something definitely stinks.
Too many kinks in the chain prevent us from pulling closer to the shore,
and the more waves are crashing, the more we’ll keep trashing those around us in the boat
Forgetting we’re all just trying to stay afloat.

Instead of enduring the storm, the norm has become to injure other sailors
To send out mailers pointing out their flaws, all while hiding our own claws
Wolves in sheeps clothing don’t even wear the wool anymore, it’s over our eyes
We’ve listened to the lies for so long, we’ve stopped listening for a song,
and reduced all speech to data - listening pro rata - just so we can point out what’s wrong.

But we are not the first to notice the waves, their legacy saves us from needing to continue
If we would only begin to, think less about building a name -
and think about what makes us the same.

Mesopotamia, Egypt, Nubian, Greek & Rome,
Indian, Asian - we all seek a throne that will last. But our past and present collide -
We know that pride comes before the fall, and yet we keep putting all
the power in the hands of those most proud, those who speak so loud you can hear their confident voice above the crowd,

Promising they won’t fall because they fly, we’d ask why but we’re too impressed by their wax wings - and if these things sound familiar ask Icarus.
We’re so sick of us, that we don’t look into our own eyes
to realize we’re the source of our own illness

But in the stillness of the moments in between, we’ve seen
Beauty that outlasts power. As thrones sour, Love remains
The smallest of grains that can grow to full-blown fields with yields enough to fill as many hearts
All it takes is someone who departs from what is expected

Someone who rejected the Siren call, who stepped out of it all to breathe
Not that we need to leave it all, this is no invitation to apathy,
But to peace. We’ve been fleeced of what was ours before we had it
Told we had to grab it, if it was truly our desire - that we’d need to aim higher, or ignite the fire

But in the midst of muck and mire we find water pure, a cure flowing right where we’re living
Not something to be earned, but something freely given.
And it’s grace, right at the place we need it, if we’d only concede it

Because it means not striving to be the winner
But inviting others to dinner, at the table with those previously unable to join
Going out of ourselves for the sake of loving our neighbor
Seeing our labor not as being the savior, but as part of something bigger
We can figure out a better way to row, the seeds we sow don’t have to grow division
It’s time we have our vision checked, and inspect what we consume. To stop being groomed by those in the room who profit from our eyes, having grown wise that cycles never end.

So grab a friend, and look to shore. There’s so much more.
More than can be done, as with the rising of the sun,
but it won’t come with one more argument won.
To Love - it doesn’t take a strong rebuff.

Just be the first to say “I’ve had enough”.
Remember - you don’t have to leave.
But take at least a moment - to breathe.