now is not a time to weep

though plenty to make you scream

or gnash the teeth, or throw, or pout

will drag you down to ocean dark,

to dim presentiments of pain

prepared immersions of the rain or drought, 

enough to kill the nascent trees

not a time to bend the knees

Rather, rise to reconsider

every preconception of who you are and what you seem

and though there are those who have the right to give

under pressure that the rest of us can only represent with platitudes and certitudes and sympathies

they will not, nor have not.  they have no choice.

While those of us who still retain our voice

will have to cede the right to buckle under

we have no privilege deep enough to cave

now is not the time to white knuckle under

to drop the pack to rest or redeem

our woes for gold bullion

we waste our lives trying to explode or cry or hate or cut the cancer out

now is no time to split the difference

or to nurse doubt

Now is the time to dream