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.
