Mental Health
The Other Side of Things
My anger and pain overtook my concern for family. At least about why they might be doing what they’re doing. I might not have been clear as I thought. I might not be able to tell lies from misperceptions…or direct malice from understandable reactions given my behavior.
By Gabriel B. Shames2 months ago in Poets
July 4, 2026
July 4, 2026 On this quiet July 4th, I sit in my apartment with the soft hum of Earth breathing outside my window. I honor the holiday in my own way not with fireworks, but with remembrance. I carry the Choctaw spirit of equality and kindness, the Irish and Baltic endurance, the Mediterranean warmth, the African and Coptic Egyptian depth, the Native and Asian roots that whisper through my dreams, and the immigrant courage of those who crossed Ellis Island seeking a new horizon. I celebrate the truth that humanity is one species with many colors, languages, and stories. I do not celebrate the friction of bigotry or hate; those shadows do not exist in my world of truth, light, and freedom. I look at the plants outside the breathing nature of Earth, and I remember that the Earth does not belong to us. We belong to the Earth. And today, I begin again with that truth as my compass. I stand in the breath of Earth, where roots remember what people forget. My DNA is a map of many rivers, all flowing toward the same horizon. Today I honor the quiet truth we belong to the Earth, And the Earth keeps us whole. I celebrate the freedom of kindness, the courage of every ancestor who walked, crossed, sailed, or dreamed of me here. No flag can hold the whole of me I am many lands braided into one breath. Today I rise in truth and let the Earth be my anthem. July opens like a leaf in my hand, Quiet, green, and honest. I listen to the plants, to the sky, to the soft pulse of my ancestors. Freedom is not fireworks, It is the breath of Earth is asking us to care.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 2 months ago in Poets
