What if the thing I carry with me today is the delight I took in seeing slivers of moonlight reach through the blinds and come to rest on the grey vinyl plank floor in my den?
Or the sound my pen makes as it glides across a page in my notebook?
Or the comfort of the first sip of soy milky frothy coffee?
Or the silence?
What if I listen to poets more than politicians?
And trust prayer more than the news.
And turn off the noise.
And sit in silence.