Ire

I dreamed of friendly neighbors sharing the bounty of their work. Of victory gardens and kind words, of diversity and shared values. Yet I see faces turn to stone, beliefs that have overcome our humanity. And signs of respect melting into cold hatred. I have often said I was a dreamer, witnessing a world losing its grace. But to not be hypocritical, I to have my moments of intolerance and ire.

We are all human capable of great good and evil. Yet we often justify our reactions with our own feelings of inadequacy. By making targets of those weaker than ourselves. How convenient it is to pry on the weak. An instinct born of our need to survive. We should be wiser than that, but our weapons of war and death say otherwise.
 
Growing up only to be torn down, I relied on my wits to survive. A skill that has somewhat served me well. But buried deep within me are still the scars, the pain of those hateful words. So I learned to make peace with myself. Not with false bravado, but with forgiveness and action. Yet I claim no mantle of brilliance. I’m just a man living one moment at a time. 
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But I still have more evolving to do, more tendencies towards hate to overcome. For I am not perfect, just someone doing my best. Forgiveness is our first step towards redemption. Not only of those we wronged, but of ourselves. Breathing in and out is one way. Listening, centering yourself, being in the moment are the ways I use. For life is the moment in which we are living. What better time than now to live it in peace.