Iron in the Velvet.
Today, I do not wait for the world to be soft,
Nor hope for the morning to offer me grace.
I wake the small pilot-light carried aloft,
And grant it the power to brighten this place.
I am fueling the impulse that others call weak,
I am honing the edge of the gentle and still.
It is not a surrender, the peace that I seek,
But a forge in the furnace, a bend of the will.
I authorize mercy to step to the front,
I crown every gesture that seeks to repair.
When the day bears its teeth or a word is too blunt,
My kindness is armor I’ve chosen to wear.
It is iron in velvet, it is light in the bone,
A radical courage that refuses to break.
I will plant it like seeds in a garden of stone
And hallow the path that I value to take.
For to care is a harvest, to give is a bloom,
And I am the master of what I convey.
With a pulse like a heartbeat, I banish the gloom;
I am empowering my kindness today.