May you begin a new day
With abandon and passion
Hold within you the knowing
Wounds are possibilities
Made manifest at the edge-tip
Of scratchy pens and sharpened tongues.
May you believe the word
Your honest, brave words
Especially when your words rub
Against mine as coarse sandpaper
Wears down old patina to hardwood's
True grain – as a plow cuts earth, once frozen,
Now thawed. Believe creating
A fresh field to ponder
Ready for a seed crop planted
Dirty hand in dirty hand
Sister-friend, brother-friend all of us
Wonderfully and fearfully made.