(no subject)

[willowoak]

Rain drums on the roof--
Its soothing patter lulls me
Into peaceful dreams.

I wrote this one this early this morning before leaving for work -- in all innocence of the irrevocable decisions made by the so-called leaders of this country in my name, in our names. Now I feel nowhere as peaceful as I did in that moment. I am cynical, I am angry, I am aghast, I am afraid. And I am ashamed of my government.

I tried to write a haiku that expressed my feelings about this action. But nothing is coming. I have a couple of lines, but they're disjointed, the images won't gel. I am not in the haiku space when I think about war. Maybe later, maybe never. I don't know.

I cannot write poetry about hate. I have to choose hope...and love...and life. I was sitting in front of my screen and these words just came out of my hands. Tomorrow is Ostara.

Ostara has come...
We bless the land and the seeds--
Hope for our future.

May our Gods bless us and protect us. May we be honorable. May we be awake and aware. May we choose life and love. Peace.