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...