Yes, but.....

We say we won't let the terrorists win

We say we will become stronger - we won't be broken
by the senseless bloodshed, the fear, the evil
We say our hearts are heavy
we are sad, devastated, heartbroken
We say this time, things will change

Yes, but.....
how much more must we take?
When will we all awake to the reality that we can only
win if we are not out for ourselves but are there for our fellow man and woman
whether we know her or not, whether we agree with him or not
How much more?
How often must we repeat "Our thoughts and prayers are with (fill in the current blank)"
Strikes me that we are headed toward what is the daily norm for people
in Syria, and Afghanistan and most of Africa
Is this to be our new normal - bombs, mass shootings, random terror?
Do we respond by arming ourselves even more heavily?
Is this the change we believe in?
Is this how we make the violence stop?
Or is there another way - if we will only take it - if we will only
move past the fear that drives our hardened stance
move past the lack of understanding that prevents us from
seeing each other as beautiful, and worthwhile and familiar
We have ceded our compassion, our love, our empathy, our selflessness
We say we must be strong, we must have hope

Yes, but -
perhaps we must also change

I despair at the moment....

Quote of the day:  It is clear that the way to heal society of its violence...and lack of love is to
                               replace the pyramid of domination with the circle of equality and respect.
                                                                                              ~Manitonquat

On Writing

Why do I write?
I'm still learning why.
I don't do it too often - certainly not as often as I would like
Yet - didn't I just finish 31 consecutive
                   writing days!?
So - why?  Why did I do that?
Why do I commit now to every Tuesday?  . . . and more?
Why did I fill journals as a youth?
Why does fine stationary and envelope make me breathe deeply with satisfaction?
Why do pen and blank paper pull me, beseech me -
      "Come, lift us, use us, let us create lines and letters and words
     and sentences to share your soul
                          with. . .
   all who wish to hear, all who take the time, all who care,                

                  with yourself."
Why does a blank screen, ebony keys
and a quiet moment
tease me, invite me, implore me to
    tap out things I need to express but fear to?
Why do words swirl through my mind and heart
in an alluring dance
that entreats me to whirl among them,
leading and linking them
            into elegant connections?

Why do I write?
To learn, of course, and to express, to wonder, to ponder, to share, to question, to think, to explore, to contemplate - yes - all of those.
But mostly - to create
and to commune - with others, with myself, with the Universe, with God.
I write to be more fully who I am
I write to become more fully who I am meant to be.

Quotes of the day:  Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
                                                        ~William Wordsworth

The maker of a sentence launches out into
the infinite and builds a road into Chaos and Old Night,
and is followed by those who hear him
with something of wild, creative delight.
                                                 ~Ralph Waldo Emerson