I find myself holding on to that lemon seed, caressing it with love as if to make the evil leave, and then my soul speaks to listening ears within me and I know the walk’s going to be next to a grand plot of trees, all with hanging lemons and each without lemon seeds.
How could you tell a child that discrimination has sides, that the Nazi flag flown in Charlottesville, Virgina had sides. So wrong, so very wrong. You and I, me and you, we are also Hebrew – you should feel that in your soul’s fire, deep within where God lives in us all. I am begging you, hear him too.
The unscratched newness of possible…caressing night lights, haven’t left the house, they sat there at the bottom of that dress…waiting…for the demanding dress.
The singers crying over words they know too well, that make sense of life and the “if only I’d remembered to listen a little longer…”
So we don’t help, we forget, we let things be. We ignore the children.
Holding the handmade ornaments from my daughter, with their crayon colorings, brilliantly arranged as a little girl of five to say Santa was arriving, made me nostalgic for those beautiful days of handcrafted gifts with special bows made by her small hands.
We are willing to have the world gaze upon our words as if they knew us intimately, and they want to, and they need to. How else will they explain their very
I am an atom, founded in your scientific and artistic reincarnation of the creation story, all done in myth and history. You did me before and accurately, while fighting the same me and the same wars, all in the name of atrocities.
She told me all the things I needed to know and hear. A dying man needed to know he’d be remembered.