We have been here before.

Worrying about tiny seeds, and entire forests burning, at the same time.

It can be a comfort, that we care for both small and big. Near and far.

We can marvel at how much our minds can hold, while at the same time recognizing the limits of our bodies.

And we can offer ourselves ease and a challenge: to inquire how we might be more like what we loathe than we want to believe.

My anger is him. It’s what he wants and what he’s getting.

So too, my fear. My disgust.

He’s watering those seeds, in me.

It’s my job to shine a light.

To say: I see you, doing that.

But I am not afraid of your shadow, or mine;

It means the sun is somewhere.

And with it, we can bloom into action.