sitting here wanting
to be a part
of the movement
bursting
so strongly
all around me
something
halts me
whether it
is a newfound
introversion
or fear of
imperfect
analysis
i consider
how lack of
intention does
not absolve harm
committed
and see that
a wealth of
revolutionary well-meaning
held in an able body
and able heart
which can overcome
inertia and do not
is meaningless
i see that
must learn
must commit
to growing
into my own
grand intentions
and that
as much as
i need these
hours alone
in quiet
there is
nourishment necessary
that can only be found
by sharing space
with other beings
and that space
may not be
in the streets
but it must be
made somewhere.
title from woo woo.
narinda heng 