Fires, gunshots, lies, treason, bombs, suicide, murder…the list goes on! News that confounds and drowns the mind in fear, pain and unbearable helplessness. Where is the opening to escape the malignant sound that is poisoning the one thing we have and share together?

Sadness is weighing heavily in my basket and leaking from the places I don’t have time to mend. The burden stretches across miles and threatens to darken the corners of babies and innocents…a screaming loss to bright futures. May I rest this basket on your rock and wade into chilly waters, may I dare to hope that you will not let it float away in the rising tides…will you help me become refreshed?

It’s a long day yawning ahead. It’s a world with smoke hanging thickly above thinning horizons, wispy pink and grey ribbons struggle to bring peace. Will you stand there and greet me as I return to solid ground and lay my hand on my basket, gathering strength? Hope wraps my ankles like seaweed and hold me tight. Tiny organisms cling to my skin, feeding me, regenerating my being. Help me lift this load back to my shoulders, and promise me not to take your eyes from my back as I disappear into the mist ahead. I will continue to remember you standing there, possibly waiting for me to return.

Carol McDonald