Progress never stops. Love always wins. Poets heat February. Musicians rock love. Sun—hold that note—sun….
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“We’ve got to get some light in here.” The gardens of our hearts beg for starting over, untying knots, pulling weeds, letting go, opening up. Reaching higher, turning over, clearing away, giving thanks, unwinding brambles. Laboring today for tomorrow’s promise.
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When Lucille Clifton asks, “won’t you celebrate with me,” we answer yes. What does this Black woman decide when she finds no model for how to create her life? “what did i see but to be myself?” she responds. The poet fastens her hands and makes her life of “starshine and clay.” What does a boy from the staunchly-segregated south long to do before he dies? Jimmy Carter casts his ballot for Kamala Harris. Won’t you celebrate the 39th president with me?