Where Do These Worlds Touch?

Some create a world out of fear and anger. Some create a world out of beauty and amazement. Where do these worlds touch? Where do they intersect? In a dumpster behind the bistro? In a patch of daffodils at the cemetery? In the eye of a homeless kitten crossing the subway tracks? No, friend, these worlds do not commingle at all. Though they occupy in the same space, and abide within each other, they never meet or even sense each other's presence. Both worlds are on this earth, yet they are in opposite galaxies. That wasted food, who named it “garbage,” and who shared it? From the silence of yearning, how did the corpse of your ancestor flower? When the feral feline gazed at you, did you let it burn a hole through your pupil, and remember the eye of the Goddess? Everywhere you walk, let the ruins of outrage dissolve into gardens of hope. When you give up your story of shame, stand before me in your new and perfect body. When I give up my story of reproach, let me stand before you in my new and perfect body. We will breathe the same rainbow.

Image: 'Wall Street" by Andree Wallin