| 22 | We are Human |

We were intended to be human. Breakable, vulnerable, wound-able. Beautiful, powerful, grateful. Human.

We were meant to be soft enough to squeeze and real enough to grieve. Our hearts were meant to be moldable, changeable, moveable. We were born exposed and exposed is the life we live. We were built for letting it all in, while leaning all in to the capacity of Love.

We were designed to live wide open, brimming with love unprotected, full, plentiful, and brave. We were created for freedom. To live with wildness and lightness. To indiscriminately give grace and mercy, forgiveness and compassion, understanding and kindness. Condition-less affection was our most sacred gift and is our most persevering truth.

We were drawn with diversity. We are the Sistine Chapel of creation, the crown of intricate design. We reflect every angle of glory, goodness, and God. We were woven into one coat of many colours. We are a compilation of patterns, an arrangement of complementary purpose.

We were fashioned for wholeheartedness, courage, and connection. Our story is kinship and our tale is generosity. We were always meant to be a people. Relationship was meant to be safety. Family was meant to be home.

Discord may screech between and within us. Darkness may shadow admiral horizons. Hate may burrow down, plotting the plant of rot in holy ground. Hopelessness may mourn a ballad and confusion may grow tangled thickets. Malevolence may be unveiled from hiding places in our streets and systems, in our hearts and homes.

We may long for quiet. We may ache for peace. We may chase the lingering traces of sunset. We may take cover under shields of unfeeling. We may bury our treasures. We may lock doors upon doors.

But we are people. We are human. We are bearers of the Sacred. We are born of light. We are harbingers of promise. We are endless golden roads. We are songs. We are sunflowers and wild roses. We are halcyons of troubled skies.

We are afraid. We are unarmored. We are trembling.

We are praying in the garden for this to be easier.

But we are brave. We are dauntless. We are lionhearted lambs.

We are willing.

|🖤|🤟🏻|

We can love, we can love.

We can love, we can love.

And the birds will sing our song in Halcyon.

THE PAPER KITES

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