I Am My Mother's Daughter,... I Am

We Must Shine With Hope, Stained Glass Windows That Shape Light Into Icons, Glow Like Lanterns Borne Before A Procession. Who Can Bear Hope Back Into The World But Us.

I Want To Be With People Who Submerge In The Task, Who Go Into The Fields To Harvest And Work In A Row And Pass The Bags Along, Who Are Not Parlor Generals And Field Deserters But Move In A Common Rhythm When The Food Must Come In Or The Fire Be Put Out. The Work Of The World Is Common As Mud. Botched, It Smears The Hands, Crumbles To Dust. But The Thing Worth Doing Well Done Has A Shape That Satisfies, Clean And Evident.

We Admire Predators - Panthers, Lions, Tigers, Even Wolves. Maybe To Be Naturally Thoughtful And Hesitant To Use Violence Is To Be Somehow Second Rate. To Be In The Middle Of The Social Food Chain. Especially If You're A Man. This Society Thinks Real Men Are Violent.

The Politics Of The Exile Are Fever, Revenge, Daydream, Theater Of The Aging Convalescent. You Wait In The Wings And Rehearse. You Wait And Wait.

Looking At My Life Was Very Difficult. I Think I Learned That I Haven't Been As Good A Person As I'm Inclined To Think Of Myself As. I Haven't Been As Good Friend, Haven't Been As Good A Person, Made A Lot Of Mistakes.