Distinguished hearts of this planet.
On behalf of the wealth and the poor, the weak and strong, the arrogant and humble, the influencers and followers, the brave and frightened, the marginalized and prestige, the religious and heathens, the spiritual and worldly, I pass on their greetings to you.
From the time of scribes, we have written our hearts reservedly and freely.
We have accepted that the skill and making of art is our earthly communal right.
We owe our art to hearts.
The words we write to penetrate the chambers of the most reserved.
The verses we flow to the veins of everyone, both banned and legal.
The memories we invoke of what was forgotten or taken for granted.
The ink we type into the blank streams of the innocent and unaware.
At times our hearts forget that this art of writing is ours.
That once the heart dies, the art of storytelling dies too.
The words we choose to conceal our truths and intentions.
The fear we have to teach others how to speak through love.
The divisions we build with greed for numbers and titles.
Hearts are shrinking by our indifferences to kindness.
Hearts are yearning to meet other hearts with openness.
Hearts are writing to seek honor in our ordinariness.
What we wrote yesterday is recorded.
What we are writing today is seeking.
What we will write tomorrow is oneness.
The words we give today, whatever the meaning, they have to touch hearts.
However hard it may be to write your heart, make it touch other hearts.
That we owe it to future hearts of this planet, we have to touch hearts.
We must ink a nation of hearts only.
Where every heart regardless of nature belongs.
That heart and heart proudly chant, “We are Hearts.”
We are born with hearts.
We build with hearts.
We are hearts.
* If you enjoyed this piece, you might also like this speech poem.
