A Red Thread drifts in the breeze, tangled in the locks of a girls hair, oblivious is she, to the wind that smudges her current reality and tugs her towards a new flow, towards unity in a new web of people, one that embraces the flecks across her cheeks scattered in permanent reminders of difference, but our perspectives may not be so different, each page we turn may be from the same book, but another chapter, yet our inner circle reflects who we are inside and lets us sprout new wings to fly to the next story, voices around her initiate her next steps, inspire her voice, tug her heart along until she finds her footing again, we are not alone, but who are you, it’s okay if you do not know, but you belong right here, for now, tucked between the everglades and the bony structures towering over us, the same ones that watch our steps day by day, plotting to bend the next generation to their will, but they won’t, because the new children, the new voices, the next life, will open a new book and tear the corners of another page until they too find their community, they’ve already intertwined the words of the past with the ones of the present and are finding the next in the future, home to a new city to build a new home, because the Red Thread keeps pulling her through life even when she is lost, the thread may stretch or tangle, but it will never break.