After walking in the lightly misty rain,
I fall back into bed
and think; "thank God for my home,
warm bed, clothes, and
delicious food to eat...."
but then my mind turns to all
who have not,
all who slept out in that rain,
all who don't know when they will
ever feel safe again.
What can I  do about that?!
The need for action stirs.

the smell of freshly cut grass;
so infamous that companies
have tried to bottle it a mass
but it doesn't include the many
mud, smashed sticks, twigs
insect bits, that accumulate
and get thrown in the trash.
the smell of success!

just outside my window,
there is a cacophony of loud;
from teeny tiny insects
to the birds that fly over the ground.
I also hear a labrador bark,
and children screech from being bound.
in play, life outside my window,
step outside, because it will be found!

you are my defender,
I don't need a pretender,
you hold the lock and key,
to my heart; set me free,
from the misogyny.

I am so irrevocably flawed,
That it should lead me to depression!
Perfection and not feeling worthy,
or good enough are like shards
Of broken glass, causing pain where gnawed.
But I'm reminded, of what beauty,
and reclaimed brokenness are; kintsugi,
And cry out more freely: I am flawed!
And how happier that makes me.