A manifesto that isn’t angry

Take these roots and feel how they curve perfectly in your palms.

(Even the bumps and jaggedness, don’t they feel so familiar?)

Scoop two fingers in the mud: black, creamy. Blur your cheeks with earth color.

Climb a tree; they don’t mind.

Feel the solidness of the tree, which you can almost hear.

Learn to be like this tree.

Learn what the tree is called.

(If you do this, the tree will always feel like home to that blank space inside you.)

Take off your socks and pick up pebbles with your toes.

Don’t be afraid to love even the crow and its harsh love song.

Swallow flower petals. (Can you taste watercolors?)

Gather bronzed bones in your arms and learn not to be brittle.

Eat good pain like fruit.

Write love letters to the world and pin them on doors.

Let yourself sink, then float, then sink, float.

(Nobody knows what the fuck they’re doing.)

(Isn’t it the most wonderful thing?)