My Utopia has no hierarchy—

The disabled thrive because we built it right,

With ramps and rest and time to breathe,

Where the clerk, the surgeon, the poet

Are equally necessary, equally valued.

Every voice heard, every body welcomed,

Not despite difference but because of it,

Like gardens where the weary rest

And all the flowers can bloom.

Ambition isn't measured in speed,

Work has meaning, and not just pay,

And we stop trying to conquer—

The wolves come home, the forests breathe again.

We hold each other up, hand in hand,

No one left without a key,

No one's worth measured by what they produce,

Just the quiet dignity of being alive,

Fair and true and interdependent,

Where we finally understand:

We were never meant to be alone.