Evolution

Let the heart be moved again:
by the green hills, the grass whistles, willow huts,
and pillow forts of our childhood—our spirits flaring
through our skin like beams of unassailable possibility.

Let the heart be moved again:
that first kiss under starlight, this shaft of mote-filled light
streaming through a crack in the garden shed, these songs
of white-throated sparrows, black-capped chickadees.

Let the heart be moved again:
by the symphony of a wide river in a warm rain;
on lamp-lit bridges our upturned faces, diaphanous,
expectant, unfinished, relentlessly longing.

Let our hearts converge anew:
in the mystery of the ever-near and the ever-more, in
the incomprehensible depth of our interrelated lives,
incarnate, divine, dying and rising, transforming.

Let our hearts converge anew at such a time as this:
these evening years, this darkening age, these unstinting losses,
our deep separations, borne of fear, borne of violence,
our current breakdown making way for a breakthrough.

Let our hearts converge anew in the cosmic reality of spirit
and matter, entangled in Love, through Love, by Love, the sum
of Love: to mop a floor, to feed the poor, our true business—
being less for the sake of another—our surging wholeness;
and to all, beauty and dignity, to everyone a name and a history.