How Lucky We Are

How Lucky We Are

while I write this, a storm is approaching
but the ground has stayed dry for now
the sun warm, the breeze fresh, the night soft enough to sleep
how lucky we are
with tent flaps zipped shut without worry
and unzipped just as easily come morning

how lucky we are with the sea
a whole week of looking out over the horizon
of leaving and returning
and yet another day of good fortune
with the coast calm and unwatched
with the cargo arriving at the harbour
with thirst, and then the answer to it
with fainting from heat, not from hunger

how lucky we are with the land – long, alive and free
with bees, butterflies, birds in the garden at breakfast
with someone who knows their names and points them out
with the marsh harrier soaring overhead, the oystercatcher falling silent when the singing began
with the singing
with the screaming that comes from guitars
with ice lollies from freezers
with water pistols
with stories about stories from distant lands with real weapons

how lucky we are
while I write this, world leaders are gathering
while I write this, bombs are falling
but we have trees that gather above us
we have dunes with veins that connect what we risk losing
we are stressed – not from lack, but because we don’t know what to let in
we have time to care
we have time to make art
we have enough cloths to stop the bleeding
we have spirits with good intentions

how lucky we are to feel hope, despite everything
to hear voices that keep telling us what is, and what could be
to feel empathy, and to believe that it is enough
to be safe – so long as the news stays news and not something just around the corner

how lucky we are
we are so lucky, it cannot fit in one body
not on one island
not in one enclosed space
it would be a shame if this luck never left the island
if luck did not slowly become conscience,
if all that moved us here didn’t move us forward
we are so lucky
we ought to know
that luck only works when it is shared