> [!QUOTE] Poem > > # *Kindness* > > Before you know what kindness really is > you must lose things, > feel the future dissolve in a moment > like salt in a weakened broth. > What you held in your hand, > what you counted and carefully saved, > all this must go so you know > how desolate the landscape can be > between the regions of kindness. > How you ride and ride > thinking the bus will never stop, > the passengers eating maize and chicken > will stare out the window forever. > > Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness > you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho > lies dead by the side of the road. > You must see how this could be you, > how he too was someone > who journeyed through the night with plans > and the simple breath that kept him alive. > > Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, > you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing. > You must wake up with sorrow. > You must speak to it till your voice > catches the thread of all sorrows > and you see the size of the cloth. > Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore, > only kindness that ties your shoes > and sends you out into the day to gaze at bread, > only kindness that raises its head > from the crowd of the world to say > It is I you have been looking for, > and then goes with you everywhere > like a shadow or a friend. > > — [[Naomi Shihab Nye]]