Wampum

Water Anxiety

My Other Solstice Gift

Peace to my heart. Peace to my homeland. Voices and oud. Jonah is asleep next to me. Transitions from school are hard. An hour of inconsolable loss at 4pm, five days a week. Peace is very, very personal.

In the last 48 hours over 100 human beings have been killed, and at least that many wounded, and many, many more frightened, for a cause that arose from one man's diseased mind, buffeted and reshaped by the hundreds of thousands of minds that chose to act with that one, or that are forced to react, the condition we call war.

In Baghdad Riverbend's mother says they suffer from water anxiety. Is there any? When there is, is there really? Here it is heating oil. Is there any? When there is, is there really? We are not at peace, and any moment contains the crack of thunder, the cry of inconsolable grief. Under opposing stars, and opposing the stars, we wake when we should sleep.

Posted by EBW at January 31, 2005 05:14 PM