11/09/2025
Too close to the fires,
compassion and empathy
flare white-hot, searing
the marrow of my heart.
Compassion fatigue,
a slow ash settling in lungs.
Vicarious wounds
bleed through the skin of strangers.
Secondary stress
echoes like distant thunder
in the hollow of my ribs.
Moral injury;
a fracture no cast can mend.
Burnout,
the wick of me
gutted in its own smoke.
Yet the work is a lantern
swung into the dark,
draining and fulfilling
in the same breath.
Reserves run low,
but I keep the door cracked,
heart-forward, awakened
watching discord devour the world.
I teach hope to the hopeless
while battles rage unnamed.
Every day a skirmish
with shadows we can’t quite see.
So I breathe.
Keep the heart open,
mind fixed on the good.
Lend a hand.
Pet the dog.
Savor the small mercies.
Give Hugs.
Share your laughter.
Do the best with what you’ve got,
one kind act, one loving word,
one compassionate spark
is enough.
Let go the things you cannot steer.
Tip the balance toward kindness.
It matters.
The fire may lick too near,
but a single steady flame
can light the way home.
Take good care of that steady flame.