👋 Hi, everyone! I hope you’re all enjoying some warm, cozy time this holiday season. As we prepare to put this year to bed, I’m excited to share some glimpses of a slightly more hopeful future — envisioned by YOU. These four drabbles and one poem were all submitted by Looking Forward readers over the past few months. I think they capture some of the mood of 2025 — while also keeping one foot in the more compassionate and innovative world we’re still trying to build. 

Ali Nasir, the author of the poem, said that his creation came from a place of uncertainty. “Hope, when placed against the current state of affairs, seems deluded and misinformed,” Ali wrote to me. “But at the same time, it seems juvenile and needlessly angsty to banish it entirely. The poem questions if the poem is even worth writing, and ultimately concludes that it is. What do we have but our song?”

As we look toward the next year (and more) of climate progress, what’s one thing you’re holding onto in your vision for the future? Share it in drabble form, poem form, song form, a one-word email, a link, or whatever suits. I would love to hear from you.

This post originally appeared in Grist’s weekly solutions newsletter, Looking Forward. Not on our list yet? Subscribe here to get it in your inbox every Friday.

Scenes of the future — envisioned by you

A pencil touches the circumference of a drawing of the earth

🚃 🚃 🚃

The maglev train had picked us up just as the ocean and the storm washed the bridges away. St. Pete is not coming back, and my heart hurts with grief.

We got off in Peninsula City and walked to the refugee camp. We lined up under the magnolia tree, and they gave us each a clean hoodie, toiletries, and a sandwich. 

Now I get a second chance up here, further north, with the bamboo fabricators. They’re looking for workers. Tonight we’ll sleep in tents, but next week I’ll have my own room, my tools, a good job. And hope, again.

— Carlos Ariza

🗨️🗨️🗨️

“… I’m okay. The house didn’t catch on fire after the tornado, that’s good …

“… How am I really? I mean, if they hadn’t gutted FEMA and the EPA we wouldn’t need a county disaster liaison or community mutual fund, we’d just have emergency aid and fricking disaster insurance.

“Er — not that I’m not grateful for you, I just — I’m sorry it had to be this way. I think you do a great job listening to whiny, confused people like me in the wake of crisis.

“… I couldn’t possibly have paid enough into the mutual fund to cover your kindness. Thank you.”

— Betsy Ruckman

🔨🔨🔨

“How would it look?” your friend Ismael asks imaginatively. “Living in a world with no waste?”

Wandering through the alleyways of Algiers in the blistering summer heat, you ponder exactly that. “Streets are filled with craftsmen selling their goods. Repair shops on every corner. Buying anything new is taboo. Plastic is finally …”

“But is it feasible?” Ismael interjects. “Will society actually adapt?”

You stop walking. The sun beats down mercilessly. Sweat drips from your face. “Ismael, you sound like a finance bro again.”

He laughs. “Fair enough. But seriously.”

“We will,” you say firmly. “Because we both know we must.”

— Alex Siminoff

🦋🦋🦋

A monarch butterfly circled us briefly before flitting across the street and over the top of a house. Valentina said, “I love butterflies. When you save Earth, are you going to save butterflies?”

“Everything on Earth is connected — you, me, the butterflies, the flowers, the trees, and people, too. Because everything is connected, if we succeed in saving Earth, the butterflies will be saved along with everything else. But I can’t save Earth alone. People everywhere have to help me.”

“Can young people help?”

“Certainly, and many do.”

“I would like to save the butterflies. Can you show me how?”

— Haydon Rochester Jr

🗣️🗣️🗣️

Saunter in Now, King Of Heaven

Primed with want and mineral oil —
I’ll sing a song for you.
But then, late in the life of man,
everything is song, no one
is singing, the bells are
ringing, the rhymes are contrived,
I’ve loved you half to death already,
you’ve killed me half to life.
The half-life of a star is about the time
it lasted. But then, every generation
sees itself bound on a Catherine wheel
on fire. And I’m right to do it, too.
To finger the little pearl of sorrow
one could think is new
but is really just newly delegated
to me and mine.
Saunter in now, King of Heaven.
And I don’t mean by that
what you think. For I shot
the thing with feathers for game.
And I eat my fears for breakfast,
though little I fear fits in my mouth.
Believe me. Late in the life of man,
I’ll sing a song for you.
I’ll make it long for you.

— Ali Nasir

✍️✍️✍️

Share your thoughts

Each of the pieces above envisions a different area of progress — community care, zero-waste innovation, the idea of hope itself. What’s one thing you’re holding onto for the future you want to be a part of building? 

That may be one specific solution, a place you find comfort or joy, or a feeling that guides you in your work. 

If the pieces above inspire you, please feel free to write your idea into a drabble (it’s fun!), a poem, or any other form that suits you. If that’s not the vibe, you’re also welcome to just reply to this email with a few words. I would love to hear from you.

More from Grist

🥩 Good game

It’s a cruel irony that the people who grow and produce our food are often among the hungriest. And as food supply chains are threatened by climate change and other pressures, remote, rural areas are particularly vulnerable. In Georgia, a program called Hunters for the Hungry is helping to feed hundreds of thousands of people with fresh game meat. Read more

📜 Truth and Reconciliation

The Finnish government recently released a Truth and Reconciliation report, meant to document the history of harm to the Indigenous Sámi people and lay out some steps for improving relations. The same model has been used by other nations — but for the Sámi, climate change and the threats it poses to traditional ways of life became a central focus of the report. Read more

🎄 Holiday viewing

Netflix’s new holiday rom-com, A Merry Little Ex-Mas, is really a climate movie in disguise. I watched it last weekend with two other Gristers, and we got a big kick out of its portrayal of environmentalism. While the romance falls flat, the movie is basically wish fulfillment for anybody who cares about sustainability and dreams of living in the Practical Magic house. Read more

📚 And one more thing

We’ll be having our next book club gathering in mid-January! RSVP here for our discussion of Under the Sky We Make, where we’ll be joined by author Kimberly Nicholas. Hope to see you there!

In other news

👋 See you next week!