soup.

we share a table. over bowls of delicious homemade soup. in an incomplete basement. a work in progress. that serves a purpose. and has potential. but has far to go. a different space than we usually cross paths. but here we are. sharing moose stew. and chicken noodle soup. and as we sit. in coversation. in silence. we celebrate what has been. what is. while wondering what might be. and how we might fit in this process of evolution. how we might all be a part of something bigger than ourselves.

and voices are real. and voices are heard. voices that speak of the gravity of homelessness. of sleeping out in the cold. of being kicked out in the cold at seven in the morning. of walking. walking. walking. when there is no where to go. when everywhere is closed on sundays. even the churches. of tresspassing just to get a place to sleep in jail. of survival. desperate survival.

yet voices are thankful. even though there is much to improve. even though there is much more to be done. voices seem appreciative. of the safe space that has been provided. of the chance to be heard.

and voices are hopeful. that we will continue to come together. as people. sharing a table. sharing our common humanity. remembering our liberation is caught up in each other. so let us journey together. let us honour one another. let us one day overcome.