I slept last night to a sense of support, Of caring friends who smiled and hugged And jested with me in my embarassment But who, I knew, would never hurt but heal. I wake this morning with joy in my heart And love in my soul And visions of the multitude of us ALL Singing, dancing. Lifting in smiles and hope. At breakfast I watch the cardinal across the yard Near the pond chirping and drinking And see the new cold sun Sending rays of warmth and gladness. I think and wonder. Can we be Family, Friends, Community? Is the search for Power, Ego, Recognition, Control, The bogus shams for a real sense of self, So strong, our willingness to hurt to gain these so great, That Community is a dream of the visionary, As lasting as the dew on an August day? I remember. I was hurt, Cast to the ground by hate and a fever pitch of fury Carried out in the solemn tones of bureaucracy. I hid. I could not look out. I cried. You called me and told me: "Do not forget." You told me my life was important, my passion, my ideas. You gave me hope. And to you also I turned. Call upon call and an answer. And you stood with me, listening, comforting, protecting me. We were angry together. We were hurt together. We shared with one another and supported one another, Learning and caring, Becoming close. Family. Community. The light circles on the pond And the wind wafts over the frozen ice That covers the pond. The sun glistens gleaming on the snow. And the peace I feel gives me hope For another day.