I would say, "Don't waste your vote this fall," but not everyone who reads this will have the privilege of voting on November 3rd, 2020. 
Please, do not waste your VOICE this fall. 

I have no way of knowing what kind of beliefs you've grown up with. What kind of religious practices, parental decisions, or extended family situations have impacted your morals. And to be perfectly honest (and a wee bit blunt) I really don't care at this moment in time. I don't care if your parents grew up as ultra conservatives, mega liberals or anywhere on the increasingly broad spectrum that lies in between. 

I do care that you have conversations with people of all different backgrounds, political orientations, and groups that are opposed to your beliefs. I care that, if you feel internal conflict or confusion based upon the voices of influence in your life, you engage with people who can educate you. 

Some men wish to go on vacation. Some wish for a boss who would give time off to explore, to get out of the same old daily lifestyle. 
And those are the things I’d wish for, too. I’d wish to see the sights of the world, to see culture and nature and a pathway of history unfold in front of my eyes. 
Yet I cannot. I cannot simply because of chance, some unforeseen gene. Because of chance, I cannot see. 
I cannot see the source of the birds’ song. I cannot see the tree that lets its leaves rustle with the breeze, I cannot see a simple smile from a friend. 
So no, I do not wish to see the world. All I feel the urge to see is one presence. All I crave to see in reality, not imagination, is the face of my love. My love whose voice is the only thing I know, whose words shape her being.  
Yet every time she asks me as I wake up if I can detect the magnificent morning rays beaming through window, I open my eyes to say, “No.” 

I have grown up inside these walls. There is not a day I remember in which bells did not chime around me, cars did not crawl by in miles of traffic, salespeople did not push themselves against passerby. This is the city my family was placed in at the beginning of time, and it is where I will stay. We are the city people, and that is that. I have heard murmurings of outside communities, ones whose land is free, ones whose land is trees, ones whose lives are on boats. But they do not matter. Never once will I have to leave this serene, unwavering land of peace, never once will I meet the people of alternating races. My sea of brown is all I need. In school we are taught not to question the ways our food is gathered, not to question where the water comes from. So until I was fourteen, I did not know the power of our government.

I did not know how we stripped the trees from the green people.

This is our land of freedom , but we both know that we can’t be here forever. There are other people to think about, rules that must be abided. While this is a perfect world to us, somewhere else is missing us. Somewhere else is suffering. No matter the beauty of the current moment, there are always people who need help, always people who have less. This day is but a gift. We must enjoy it for all it’s worth.

 

if at some point
all of this world
will be crushed into oblivion...
what is the point of us being? 
because of 
color
music
pride?
because of 
friends
love?
because of 
kindness
self growth
ambition?
because there is always a better tomorrow if you have the desire for it to be one.
 

Dear Winter,
before you go 
please change my flannel sheets to polyester
and hang the sap buckets
not on the one we call washington, who has stood tall since 1789
or lincoln, who has seen 183 springs

Please give the ticks a heads up
that they are not welcome
and let the goat kids thrive

Thank you for giving me 
extra time
to process what spring holds
mud
rain
tests

But now
I think I am ready
for you to go.