It Is A Grief Over

I Know I Am Made From This Earth, As My Mother's Hands Were Made From This Earth, As Her Dreams Came From This Earth And All That I Know, I Know In This Earth, The Body Of The Bird, This Pen, This Paper, These Hands, This Tongue Speaking, All That I Know Speaks To Me Through This Earth.

Far More Frightening Than The Thought Of Dying Was The Experience Of Erasure Already Occurring In My Life. My Fear Of Becoming Someone Who Did Not Count.

Before A Secret Is Told, One Can Often Feel The Weight Of It In The Atmosphere.

... This Is The Paradox Of Vision: Sharp Perception Softens Our Existence In The World.

Every Important Social Movement Reconfigures The World In The Imagination. What Was Obscure Comes Forward, Lies Are Revealed, Memory Shaken, New Delineations Drawn Over The Old Maps: It Is From This New Way Of Seeing The Present That Hope Emerges For The Future...let Us Begin To Imagine The Worlds We Would Like To Inhabit, The Long Lives We Will Share, And The Many Futures In Our Hands.