In an atmosphere continually fraught
I seek clarity.
Who am I and what am I here for?
Why must we endure seemingly endless days
under clouds and rain, deprived of
the nurturing sun?
What is the purpose of ongoing wars
and other violence throughout the world?
Some days, it seems more than I can bear.
Then, a cardinal alights to feed outside my window.
A stranger on the street smiles my way
and the laughter of a child arrives
on a passing breeze.
I remember to seek balance
and begin again.
Carol watched the glass fall. It slid from her fingers and descended past the counter’s edge, past her swelling belly and swollen ankles to crash on the kitchen’s tile floor. The hand that had recently held the glass fluttered up to touch her face, as though affirming that it was still there. It hadn’t suddenly changed like everything else that she thought she knew.
She eased herself down to a crouch and began collecting the
chunks and shards resting in puddles of once sparkling water. She carefully
laid them in her hand, one by one, until she’d gathered them all. There was no
way to restore the glass to its original condition, much like her life.
Stepping over the water she walked to the trash bin and
dumped the glass inside. The last piece to slide from her hand left a thin
scratch, quickly rimmed with red. She might not escape this situation
unchanged, but perhaps she would become more distinct, sharper in some way.
Only time would tell.
