It’s just another shitty day in paradise.
The sky is a uniform grey,not the ominous kind, but soft and familiar, like my grandmother’s hair. A fine rain drifts down, blown every which way by a world weary wind. Somewhere, birds are singing. I don’t know why,maybe they’re simply content, or maybe they’re inviting us to join their choir. The trees, soaked through, glow with a deeper, more defiant green.
I am alive.
With my trusty cup of tea in hand and the comfort of my old chair beneath me, I let my mind wander.
I walk the battered streets of Gaza, step through the bombed-out ruins of Ukrainian cities, and drift among the overcrowded tents of refugee camps. I wrap my arms, in imagination, around the survivors. But I won’t lie to them.“Everything is not going to be alright.”
And then I’m back sipping my tea, listening to the rain. I hope, with all I have, that the child sitting in the rubble, the grandmother weeping, the youths learning how to hate, will one day get to see, hear, smell, and feel life in its fullness—just as I have.
hi Benny it appears are minds are on similar wavelengths I don’t like to write about war but the suffering is on my mind like I can feel their pain on my own body…when will people realize this fact? great write 💕
You and crimsin’s, writes are very powerful tonight. You’re right it is not going to be alright.
Thanks Crimsin and Fia.
Whilst I think about such things I don’t let it weigh me down or make me angry.To empathize with all who suffer allows me to look out the window with joy….mostly.
That is good.
We have a lot to be thankful for, Benny.
I think you’re a hero quietly relaxing in your garden
cape floating around your neck
in the breeze
As a nurse, you’re the hero.
I’ll settle for being a mote in the eye of whoever created whole shebang.
Thanks for the lovely comment.😘
Powerfully penned, Peter. Incredible write my friend, phenomenal imagery. Never thought I’d see such sad days. Spot On. Appreciate you.
Damian