At a Science Fiction Convention, in the America of 2026
We sit, side by side in the Adirondack chairs, caught by
the lake’s beauty. I record a few seconds of an anhinga,
walking along the water’s edge, submerging. My student says,
the birds here look more like dinosaurs than birds
anywhere else — which is exactly what I’d been thinking.
The past few days have been like that. A gift, to be surrounded
by others who speak your language, who resonate
on your wavelength. Not to devalue other loves, other friends,
but sometimes you find kindred spirits, as Anne once said,
strangers to whom you might confide your inmost soul,
who have never forgotten the way to fairyland.
I read somewhere (almost everything I know to be true
I read somewhere) that when you have a child, your heart
starts walking around outside your body. This seems right.
I also once read that there are no faster or firmer friendships
than those formed between people who love the same books.
I immortalized those words in my high school yearbook,
across from the photo of my friend whom I met
over a Star Trek book, left behind in English,
beneath a desk — rescuing me from abject loneliness.
When you find such kindred spirits, your heart beats
in a new rhythm, syncopated to another’s
percussion. A host of such friends creates a symphony,
brilliant concatenation, spinning out new worlds
of glorious possibility.
Yet sometimes I forget.
The weight of our world sits heavy these days,
plus all the small troubles of my own life, friends, family —
do remember those children who have sent my heart
walking around outside my chest — they overwhelm, cast
a grey shadow, like the Shadow that veiled Charles Wallace
from gallant, frightened Meg. She almost failed him, and
there are days now when I do not know if I can fight
this greater darkness. It has grown so strong,
seemingly implacable, unrelenting. And so cruel.
But Anne said it. “Kindred spirits are not so scarce
as I used to think. It is splendid to find out there are
so many of them in the world.” I think she was right.
There are so many hearts that beat for justice, for love,
that beat in time with ours. Frightened hearts, no doubt,
but gallant still, rising to the call. Let the dinosaur-bird
teach us to be fierce, let the alligators in this manmade lake
lend us laughter at their absurdity, let the lizard inflating
its throat at me show we can be bigger than we first appear…
Let us read the world together, my loves.
Let us raise our voices, tell our stories, sing a better future.
It is not too late.
*****
March 22, 2026
with thanks to Irving Stone for the quote about friendship
