What does one write in this time of
strife. Do I write about the garden wakening in hues of blue and
yellow? Of the earth warming as sprouts of Bloodroot and Bleeding
Hearts break through reminding me there will be spring; buds on
maples, lilacs, and apples while I seek solace in my garden; it
grounds me and I feel a genuine part of life.
Now
more than ever I need that solace. I need sun, sprouts, and
birdsong. I need those, while taking calls from employees totally
lost, seeking someone to guide them. I didn’t sign up for that and
could say “it’s not my job” but I can’t. That’s not whom I
am. And so I talk and listen
to their crying
and do my best to help them. But
it takes a toll.
Life
is cruel at this moment but honestly, it’s been a long time coming.
We, humans, have poisoned the earth for hundreds of years, and I
believe it’s pay back time.
Governments and big business have waved aside the consequences of
neglect for decades. I pity children and what they will need to
endure in the following decades. It won’t be pleasant.
This
is about political as I will ever post. ~sigh~ my mind can’t
format haiku or sonnets, or even a bright post. My paints lay,
abandoned. Scribblings remain unfinished in the journal. My focus
is unfocused. I have faith that this will too pass while I putter in
the earth...
