What have I lost in my life as a steadfast activist?
I wish I had visited the coasts of Scotland,
eaten fish and chips in gabled pubs
while the lilt of Celtic fiddle music
floated over soaring cliffs.
I wish I had seen Lisbon,
heard the cry of fado sung
from deep in the heart,
eaten faiojada
in seaside restaurants.
If my time were free
I would go to Cape Cod
for whales and lobster and that unique light on the sea
frequently.
But I am fighting to defeat fascism
with urgency
in my home country
and for the liberation of humanity.
What have I found? A sense of intimacy
with the fate of the planet and all living beings on it,
feeling wrapped in the arms of an enormous family─
the children of Gaza are my children,
the children of immigrants facing deportations
are my children, the little ones
carrying loads of stones from the mines in the Congo
are my nieces and nephews,
the old folks caught in the crosshairs of incessant wars
are my uncles and aunties.
The pain of their misery and unnecessary death
weighs on me, sears my conscience
like acid rain, like volcanic ash.
But when the people of the world in their millions,
shaking off fear and apathy,
rise up for them and with them
I feel a joy
that could fill the earth we stand on.
It is a choice I make and will make
over and over and over again.