A poem that really moved us today - enjoy this!
Harry Baker Impossible
I'm finding it too easy to tell myself it is too hard, when facing the end that it's too late to even make a start.
But if we take impossible to mean that we don't have a chance, we have lost sight of how unlikely it was we would get this far.
The way the single fish outwits a shark by sticking with its school.
The way the crescent moon out spins its dark to once again be full.
Even winter, given long enough, begins to lose its cool.
That which was once exceptional now barely registers at all.
Flamingos and giraffes look like they were drawn by a child.
We can't begin to comprehend all of the ways this world is wild.
None of them asked if they were possible before they came to be.
None of them have ceased to exist by being told they make believe.
The bug who finds it all too much and tries to shut off everything.
To have recovered and then summoned up the strength to stretch its wings.
The snake so full of itself that it cannot help but shed its skin.
Or how instead of death the hedgehog went to bed and slept till spring.
To think that earth exists at this specific distance from the sun.
Down to the angle of the axis on which everything is spun. The fact that trees happen to breathe that which we need inside our lungs.
It would all seem impossible had it not already been done.
We are impossible, to everyone who's ever gone before.
And everyone who's yet to come will push impossible some more.
Just as indeed the do's we did outdo the don'ts we didn't.
So everything's impossible, until it isn't.
The thought of rivers changing course before somebody gave a damn, or that a tide might turn from shore before a line's drawn in the sand.
We cannot know how far our actions go, the impact they might have. Sometimes,
The only thing that we can do is to do all we can.
Just as the night is at its darkest when it's introduced today.
Just as the dry is at its harshest in the breath before it rains.
It's easy enough to believe in something when it's all okay, but it's when times are at their hardest that it's hardest to have faith.
Yet when the light begins to fade, that's when we need it the most.
It's by surviving day to day that we see seasons evolve.
If there was never any doubt, there'd be no reason for hope.
It could be too late to do anything.
It sure as hell is if we don't.
And I am tired of that doom and gloom and self fulfilling prophecy.
I'm trying to find room to bloom and self fulfill the opposite.
When it's an act of revolution to try to stay remotely positive, there's nothing wishy washy about opting to be optimists.
Whether a brighter future's possible, we may not truly
know. But the first step towards that future is imagining it so.
And so, as indeed, the do's we did outdo the don'ts we didn't.
It only stays impossible. Until it isn't,
and when it's over, and we're no more than old bones within the ground.
Still the soil knows to sow its seed from what is broken down, what is lost, is always lost, until the moment it is found.
And these things only ever go one way, unless we turn them round.
We are so constantly surrounded that it's easy to forget.
This world was built upon impossible that has not stopped us yet.
So yes, indeed, the do's we did outdo the don'ts we didn't.
So it remains impossible until it isn't.
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