Calton Hill

I drink in the soft lights of dawn.

The cold air feels like needles

to my lungs.

Then a breath that fills my

weary heart with longing temptation

for a new beginning.

The city, a canvas for my soul,

divided into old mistakes

and new hopes.

I wander around as one

who seeks remedy,

who seeks inspiration

within the neurons

of their own mental store.

This place is divided

by an invisible border.

This country is divided

by a visible one.

It longs for amelioration,

unification,

while others scream

nationalism.

This city is torn,

forlorn,

in the mess of newborn

hatred for the Other,

still thinking in boxes,

black and white,

poor and rich.

I walk these streets

of concrete

up and down

the ends are seamless.

This city seems fearless,

going against the unkindness,

showing its mindfulness

in the face of ignorance.

-Maria

Maria was listening to a plethora of different languages while writing this poem on Calton Hill.