But for now,  
Will you sit with me?  
And watch for the shadows in the smoke?  
Maybe even see the dance of what could be?  

And if they do—  
Maybe we do more than trap them in a jar.  
Maybe we can raise the bar.  
Maybe we can see  
Just how far  
The shadows in the smoke flow—  
If we work together  
To keep this fire aglow.

Maybe love is found in the in-between,  
Between the violent hold to keep it  
And the willingness to let go.  
Or will this sweet orange  
Rot under a tree,  
Long before we even reach spring?

"Enjoy your own company"
Is easy advice
When it isn't the only option.

"Learn to love yourself"
Is a lot easier
When you aren't the only source.

We are social creatures
But maybe there's a reason
The most successful say they're lonely.
Maybe coming to believe
Evolution has finally grown beyond
The measly confines of needing others
Is our inevitable future.

Or maybe,
Now is just a season
To be in your own company
So the next will be so much more appreciated.

Is love beautiful and soft?  
That’s what I’ve been told.  

But I’ve never seen love that way.  
She’s bold, overreaching—she fights  
For herself.  
For others.  

Love is not just the soft goodnight kiss from your mother,  
The warm embrace of a childhood friend,  
The laughter shared under the stars with a lover.  

Love is the mother lion  
Willing to lay down her life for her cubs.  
It’s the moms starving tonight  
So their children have food to eat.  
It’s my grandma, who can’t afford me,  
But keeps me anyway.  

What if love isn’t just about what we give,  
But what we’re willing to sacrifice?  

Would you sacrifice your life for me,  
Like the mother lion?  
Could you go without dinner  
So I could eat?  
Will you move the world for me?  
Do you really love me?  

What if love is supposed to be gentle and sweet,  
But this world wasn’t made for sweet things?  
They always seem to spoil and rot.  
The once-sweet orange on the tree,  
Now rotting on the ground.  
My sweet grandma, too sweet to be,  
Stolen from me.  

So love has become:  
Will you eat me,  
Or will you be eaten for me?  

Is that what we’ve done—  
Taken something so beautiful  
And stripped it of its beauty,  
Because we think  
That’s what must be done?  

Would you bake a cake for me?  
Could you dare to stay up all night  
Contemplating God with me?  
Will you cut fresh flowers for me?  
Plant a garden for me?  
Would you walk hand in hand through that garden with me?  
Could you endure the hungry nights  
So our kids can eat?  
Would you stay by my side  
After my grandma died?  
Will you still be there  
When my mind finally breaks  
And the pieces scatter?  
Can you stay long enough  
To watch me rebuild?  
Or will the scatter  
Be our final matter?  

What if it’s both—  
The soft and tender love,  
The sacrifice and hurt?  

Love is tender.  
The fight to keep it  
Is violent.  
Or does it have to be?  
Should I have to ask if you would rot for me?  
Leave yourself for me?
Can love actually demand these?

Maybe love is found in the in-between,  
Between the violent hold to keep it  
And the willingness to let go.  
Or will this sweet orange  
Rot under a tree,  
before we reach spring?

When tides change ,
And sides change.
Hero falls prey to a new justice,
And villains change to the new justice.

A genocide of millions,
Is a promise to a billion .
A proof of God's inexistence ,
Becomes a roof of his existence.

Right or wrong - a matter of perspective .
Forgotten are stories, of villains fighting.
Written are histories ,of heroes surviving.
The myths of heroes ,
Were nightmares for villains.

Love to some ,
Turns into hate for others.
They aren't ,the moral right ,
They are just ,the mortal plight.

I don’t think justice is sweet-
not real justice anyway.

It’s not like a birthday cake,
baked with love, shared with joy.

I think revenge is sold to us as sweet-
the beautiful, perfectly decorated cake we bought from the shop’s window
But one bite in and you realize:
There is no sweetness only salt
And curdled milk

I think justice is communal
For the greater good

For true justice
we must change the way we think.
Not just for me, but for we
For the whole community

So how can justice be people locked in cages
Making slave wages
How is that good for community.
Parents ripped from their children
Mothers’ children stolen
locked away

Not learning how to do better
Be better
Stripped of the lessons from the mother
Taught they are less than human
Treated like zoo animals
Rounded up like rats
Unearthing the secrets of what curdles the milk

How can justice be sweet when this is the reality
Selling out my fellow humans for my right to
THE AMERICAN DREAM
But is it really a dream worth dreaming-
If it’s just for me and not for we

If this is justice
why is it so hard to sleep.
The spoiled cake sold in the bakery window
We’ve already taken more than a couple bite
Will we spit it out?
Or will we binge until we reek-
of salt and curdled milk?