More quiet coffees at first blush of light.
More showing up to the pages to write.
A whole lot more walking and more Namastes.
More hearing music, more seeing plays.
Fewer things purchased, more things made—
Such as written or planted or baked or crocheted.
More hosting disorderly dinners for twenty,
With zero “devices” and laughter aplenty.
More listening to stories and seeing new places,
And hugging my people and kissing their faces.
More book reading, way less scrolling.
More saying “thank you,” zero trolling.
Less contempt, more curiosity,
And viewing intentions with more generosity.
More giving kudos, less throwing shade.
More resisting the impulse to post a tirade.
More conversation, not so heated.
Zero fucks given about what’s been Tweeted.
No more confirming my preconceived notions
With agitprop, fashioned to stir my emotions.
Out with defensiveness, in with humility,
And opposite viewpoints expressed with civility.
Less rumination and more open ears,
No more indulging in poisonous fears.
More openhearted, less aggrieved
Less second-guessing of things I’ve achieved.
No more apologies just for existing.
Not so much deference, way more Persisting.