The good news exists,
often twisted and obscure.
We try to print and live it right.
Each of us is a special edition, every moment
new ink wet behind our ears.
The good news is being alive, changing,
knowing the linden tree stands there, changing,
yet strong through many harsh winters.
The good news is your eyes
that touch the blue sky, the cloud.
The good news is the child before me,
my arms available.
Hugging is possible.
So often news is tangled and wrong.
Please look at the special edition
that I offer every moment,
and tell me if I am wrong or hurtful.
The dandelion is there
in a crack in the sidewalk,
smiling her wondrous smile,
singing her song of eternity.
Lo! You have ears capable of hearing
and a voice capable of song.
Bow your head, and listen to her.
Sing to her.
You and I are flowers of a tenacious family.
Breathe slowly and deeply,
free of previous occupation.
The latest good news
is that you can do it,
and that I can take time to do it too, with you.
Photography credit: "Poor child," by IlaLepo (originally black and white).