The current Administration, clouded and venal, offers nothing to the compassionate world. Reject the stance of dramatic anger at the world's vigorous rush. We are not children on this speck of dust, we are words of leaning in the light. We need no tokens and television control. We need only say yes to the words of her mouth, they are the same ones seen in the dark of our dying. We can taste a caring that doesn't make the singular mistake. That party of affliction is no longer that party, just bounds of hurt from the weight of anything. Anything is not a distance but changing flight to only delight. Only the one of world is won. We are the same turtles, stones, flies, and attention as ever.