For everything there is a season, and a time for every single thing this side of heaven:
a time to be a baby, and a time for last breaths;
a time to rage incoherently at the state of the world, and a time to tuck yourself into soft blankets and drink ginger tea;
a time to smash the imperialist white supremacist capitalist heteropatriarchy, and a time to build up the egalitarian, multiracial, anti-racist, environmental, liberationist love movement;
a time to make wishes on dandelions, scattering seeds to the wind, and a time to pluck up new weeds, declare them flowers, and make new wishes;
a time to ugly cry and let the snot drip down, and a time to belly laugh till your sides ache;
a time to grieve dear ones gone to glory, and a time for dance parties even among graves;
a time to deep clean and throw away all the crap that doesn’t spark joy, and a time to collect thrift shop treasures and impractical shoes;
a time to cuddle so close you get tangled up in embraces and can’t tell whose arms are whose, and a time to give each other space, to become your whole selves;
a time to be on the search for what’s next, what’s on its way, and a time to let go of what you always thought you’d have;
a time to recycle what’s ready to go, and a time to upcycle what wants keeping;
a time to shred old files, and a time to stitch up fresh wounds;
a time to get real still and quiet, and a time to yell true things out loud;
a time to love what needs loving, and a time to hate what needs hating;
a time for necessary conflict, holy resistance,
and a time for peace, which steadily persists,
and passes all our understanding.

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