Brave the tundra, where species cling to life.
Brave infusions that chemical a vein.
Brave a city blackout with its window-shatter,
and lightning igniting a forest away.
Brave scoldings and finger-pointing.
Voices louder than yours.
Brave your sad past, your afraid past.
All that is to come.
Brave the horizon of gray.
Brave the whimper of years.
Brave these trees, first maple, then oak,
losing their familiars, one by one.
Breathe again and again.
Brave again.
*This poem was a semi-finalist in the SWWIM For-the-Fun-of-It Contest.