All I need

dedicated to a woman who writes poetry, plants poetrees, nurturing poetesses.

I was moved as my train pushed north and I watched miles of graffiti lettering unfurl behind buildings. I thought: people can risk their lives to create beauty even if few ever get to bear witness to that effort and even if those who are lucky enough to briefly peer into the process or catch glimpse of the end product may not appreciate its meaning. They may barely know how to or be ready to accept such offerings.

But we create and we love anyways, despite this knowledge, if not driven by it.

Even in its uncertainty, I find strength. Give me a slab of concrete canvas. All I need are these slivers of opportunities, openings to live a little deeper, a moment to imprint my life onto yours.