Smoke and Strawberries


Reflections on Not Losing Hope

Photo by Lukas on Pexels.com

Through countless window glasses

smoke rises

from fires still burning across our land

and I awoke to the images of the crocus

and the Luna moth,

isolated yet filled,

each with their own brand of hope,

propelling them towards the unknown,

towards the light they know not,

yet will reign in the brilliance of.

So, I rise

and squinting my eyes

as these days require,

I resolve

to be not overwhelmed

by the dark chaos

but to focus on the phosphorescence

I remember exists

all around us,

as it did in my daughter’s eyes

as she sat long ago

between rows of strawberries,

tiny bucket between her chunky toddler legs,

savoring the ruby sweetness

she eagerly shoved

into her tiny rose mouth,

one by one, uncaring

as their sticky nectar dripped

down her angelic chin

and her smile, as forever

was my sun.

I alone am not able

to quiet the raging storms,

but today

I will delight in strawberries

and shine.

For it is in doing so

that we lead the way

for others to pleasure,

not in havoc and hatred

but in the harmony

and phosphorescent honey of life.

CRR 1–12–20

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