A RABBIT IN TIME OUT

 

A RABBIT IN TIME OUT

Deborah and I discovered him on our walk this morning…and at first we were appalled.

A rabbit…on the sidewalk up ahead of us…with his face against a wall.

He didn’t run away (like rabbits normally do) when we approached…just stood there silent and stout…which made me wonder what could this rabbit have done to end up in time-out.

I wondered…Did he talk back to his teacher?…perhaps it was manners that he lacked…until I realized…if rabbits can’t talk…how could he talk back!

And even if rabbits communicate with each other in a language we don’t comprehend…it was too early for school to have started…and who knows if he was old enough to attend!

What could he have done I wondered…was he cold or callous…or mean?

I wanted to ask his mother…but she was no where to be seen. 

It could be his mom his a very strict no-nonsense disciplinarian…and at breakfast this morning he told her he’s no longer vegetarian.

Maybe he was sloppy and didn’t keep his room in the warren neat…perhaps he stole some lettuce from the garden down the street.

All these questions and more I posed as Deborah and I were walking…but no matter how much I interrogated him…the rabbit wasn’t talking.

So this mystery remains unsolved…

we are left with questions…confusion…and doubt 

as to why on our walk this morning…

we saw a rabbit in time-out.

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ONE MAN'S (AND WAR'S) DILEMMA

 

I know I have to live, the old man said, having just lost his entire family to war…

But how do I go one living when I have nothing to live for?

How will I face the loneliness each evening…the heartbreak of each dawn?

How will I go on…when all I have…is gone?

Where will I put my grief every time hear their names…

knowing my broken heart will never beat the same?

How will I separate my sorrow while protecting their memories each day?

How do I keep those memories from ever fading away?

How will I find happiness again and not buckle under the strain?

How do I ensure your hate will not start running through my veins?

How do I keep your hate from winning when I’m so angry…when all I want to do is cry?

I’m not sure how I’ll do all this…but…for their sake…I know I have to try.

I will try with all my heart not to let you have my hate…and all it’s accompanying sins…

Because I know first-hand how much there is to lose…

the moment hate begins.

THE NUMBERS

 

Remember throwing a stone into a lake when you were a child…watching that stone soar…seeing the splash and discovering how the ripples returned back to the shore.

Remember if you tossed more than one stone at the same time…(as you might have expected)…the pattern became jumbled as the ripples intersected.

Every bomb that’s dropped…every bullet fired…every person killed in time of war…is a stone tossed upon the water…sending ripples back to shore.

In war, however, with a multitude of bombs, bullets and people killed at the same time…(as you might expect)…tragedies become jumbled as their ripples intersect.

When the ripples of one death wash over us they immediately flood our heart…filling us with sorrow at a world tearing itself apart.

But when we hear of another death…and another…and another…when the numbers become so great….the intersecting ripples become hard to discriminate.

So many people die every day in war…so many with each blink…so many ripples washing over us…we don’t have to me to think…

To think about each individual death…how life itself is rare…

to think about how personal each death is to somebody…somewhere.

To think how a war has no true winners…no lasting benefits…

To think how each person’s death has its own love story attached to it.

I imagine this is just one of the many inevitable tragedies of war…

whether or not it’s ripples ever reach our shore…

How families and friends are left in sorrow…angry…disenchanted…

How with every death created in war…another seed of hate is planted.

HER FIRST LADDER

 She remembers that day as if it was yesterday…the first time her fear and courage dueled.

She was standing at the bottom of the ladder of the high dive at the pool.

From where she stood that ladder seemed to ascend way off into the sky…

“I don’t think I can do this, Mommy!” She said.  “This ladder’s much too high.”

Her mother smiled as she looked up then said, “Not to worry, dear.”  

“It’s just a simple matter of overcoming fear.”

“It’s up to you,” she continued, “to decide whether or not this ladder you will climb.  But I can tell you, from experience, the ladder will seem shorter if you take it one step at a time.”

“Often times in life,” she said, “if you choose to face your fear…you’ll find the ladders you’re confronting aren’t as tall as they appear.”

She smiles remembering how her mom was like that…ready with advice…sometimes profound…urging her to climb the ladders…while her two feet stayed safe upon the ground.

She remembers how, with her mom’s support that day, her courage won the duel…how she climbed to the top of that ladder and dove into the pool.

And it’s these words from her mom she always remembers anytime she wonders if the next ladder is as high as it first seems:

If your heart is filled with doubt and fear…

there’s no room for your dreams. 

MY GUARDIAN ANGEL

 

I was deep into a dream this morning…lost within its fog…when I was awakened rather suddenly by the barking of a dog.

I immediately recognized the bark of our dog Whitman…  I should have felt wonderful…although…I was a bit perplexed…you see Whitman passed away so many years ago.

Thinking Whitman woke me up was enough to make me scoff…until I noticed it was later than I usually rise and my alarm had not gone off.

I sat up…now awake and painfully aware…despite his barking to wake me up…Whitman wasn’t there.

When Whitman was alive, you see, each day…just before the sun…the two of us would wake up early and head out for a morning run.

They were more like morning jog and walks…we had no need for speed…sometimes we jogged where I wanted to jog…other times Whitman took the lead.

It was always in the early morning when Whitman and I headed out the door…and in all our years of jog/walking I never knew which one of us loved it more.

But Whitman is no longer with us…no longer here to get up with me before the sun…and as I’ve gotten older I tend to walk more than I run.

So what was Whitman doing inside my dream this morning…barking me awake…I mean I’d know that bark of his anywhere…it wasn’t a mistake.

I am not an expert but I think it’s plain to see…Whitman must still be taking his morning walk with me.

It must be a part of his routine Whitman wants to keep…and so this morning he started barking rather than let me oversleep.

I’ve been blessed with many guardian angels in my life…and I do my best to heed them…because they always seem to show up exactly when I need them.

It was this morning…while in a dream…lost within its fog I realized one of my guardian angels…was Whitman…our old dog.

And as I walked with my invisible guardian angel this morning…composing this very rhyme…I thought to myself after all these years…who knew…Whitman could tell time.

LUCKY STARS

 

Deborah bought a unicorn horn that someone on the internet had made…it has no useful purpose…it just attaches to her KitchenAid.

“What does it do?” I asked with confusion written on my face.

“It doesn’t do anything.” She smiled. “It just adds a little more beauty to this space.”

I was thinking about our unicorn mixer on my walk this morning…the world around me seemed so calm when I remembered a game I use to play…counting lucky stars…with my mom.

I’d point to a star and I’d smile (that’s what anyone playing this game does) then with my finger still on the star I’d say, “I feel lucky because…”

What followed could be something simple…like pizza, baseball or hot fudge on chocolate ice cream…or it could be a little more meaningful…like my family or the ability to dream.

And when my turn was over Mom’s eyes would search the sky near and far…then smile as she raised her finger and placed it upon a star.

She would say what made her feel lucky…it could be a certain flower…or a tree…it could be the love of her family…occasionally it was me!

Back and forth we’d play this game…it was a game I came to adore…because, as Mom always said, each time we play we have more things to feel lucky for.

So with my mom and Deborah’s unicorn mixer on my mind this morning…I put my finger on a star (because that’s what anyone who plays this game does) and with my finger still upon the star I said, ‘I feel lucky because…

I’ve been blessed to have two women in my life…

one would be my mom…the other is my wife

Who always had the ability to put a smile on my face…

Who only need to enter a room…to add beauty to that space.

HER HANDS

 

She said to her husband one evening…”Here’s something I don’t understand…

how in the world have I acquired so many lines upon my hands

So many tiny creases…so many wrinkles…so many veins and spots and folds.

When…oh when…I wonder…did my hands become so old.

Her husband took her hands in his saying, “In all the years we’ve been married…all the years together we have grown…I think I probably know your hands even better than my own..

When I look at your two hands…the two hands of my best friend…my wife

I see all the balance and the beauty they have added to my life.

When you look at your hands  ”I think you, too, should be thrilled….

at all the hopes and dreams and wishes your two hands have fulfilled.

Your hands have helped to guide our family…that’s been no easy feat…

Look at all the times we’ve fallen and your hands have helped us back upon our feet.

Think of all the the ways your hands have nursed us night and day…think of all the faces they’ve cleaned…all the tears they’ve wiped away. 

Think of all the love your two hands have joyously revealed…

all the scrapes and scratches and bruises your two hands have helped to heal. 

Think of all the cookies your two hands have baked for our children and grandchildren too…Think of where we’d all be…without your two hands…and you.

Your hands have kept us safe and warm…happy and well-fed…think of all the pages they’ve turned…all those bedtime stories read.

Think of all the letters your hands have written…all the good things they have done…

Think of all the lives they’ve touched…all those flowers they’ve planted in the sun.

Think of how your hands…though silent…have the ability to say so much…

with a soft caress…a warm embrace…a kind and gentle touch

When I look at your two hands all these years of holding us…helping to guide us through…I have often wondered to myself…is there anything they cannot do?

So I can say with true conviction…as I hold your hands in mine….

each wrinkle has formed with elegance and richness and beauty….

two hands aged to perfection…just…like a fine wine.

HOW I VIEW THE WORLD

 

There are a variety of factors…a multitude of influences that have made me who I am…the person I’ve come to be…that have shaped how I view the world…and all the people  whom I see.

I like to think I view the world the way it was intended when I was created by the Gods above…through eyes that are filled with kindness and understanding..through eyes that are filled with love.

I love the way I view the world…so it should come as no surprise

how I wish everybody in the world…could view it through my eyes.

But I also know there were a variety of factors…a multitude of influences that made you who you are…the person you came to be…that have shaped how you view the world…and everyone you see.

Knowing we were all created equally but differently it should come as no surprise how every one of us in this world views the world through slightly different eyes.

What I find disturbing, however, in a world created to be a paradise…where love was to be our fate…is how many people, for whatever reason, have come to view the world through the eyes of hate.

I’m not sure what it is within us humans that allows the cancer of hate to endure….but I do know that in all our history we have yet to find a cure.

I now accept everyone in the world through a different set of eyes will see…and I don’t expect everyone in the world to see the world like me….

What I pray for now…is when our hate has finally destroyed us…

when there’s no one left to fight….

the creators of the new world…

will

next time 

get it right.

TOGETHER

 Together…it’s one of my favorite words…I believe it deserves some recognition

sometimes it’s the simplest words that give life its definition.

If you’re lucky enough to find someone to share your world with, 

your cares are few…you know there’s nothing you can’t weather

you hope for happiness, perhaps a home…a family…

and you have this shared dream of growing old together.

Then life comes at you with its responsibilities…its burdens…its restraints…

you secretly wonder how you’ll ever muddle through…

but together you do…

then one morning you wake up and realize your dreams have all come true.

You know life hasn’t always been easy…sometimes you’ve been at the mercy of the wind…like a feather…but you’re healthy, you’re happy…you’ve made it…you have grown old together.

Life has moved so quickly , however, you’re not sure when it happened…how…or even where…but with your children grown…your grandchildren growing…there is happiness in the air.

It’s a wonderful feeling knowing you were right…

when you said there is nothing you can’t weather…

and now you’re ready for the next phase of your life…

growing even older together.

There’s a funny thing about time…

as we’re building a life…a family…how often we admit…

no matter how much we try to budget our time…

there’s never enough of it.

Often time is our enemy…and we wonder if that feeling will ever end

then one day…as if my magic…time becomes our friend.

And when we have the time to look back…

we realize what has been the glue in our life…the bond…the tether…

What made our life worthwhile…was simply living it…together.

HISTORY

 

The Greek word is Historia…we call it history…it’s the seeking of knowledge and the knowledge gained from that inquiry.

It has been mostly men who have transcribed history…as a general rule…which has allowed their version of history to be the one we learn in school.

But man…any man…has a tendency, when it comes to writing his story…his verse…to make himself look better than he is…and everyone else look worse.

Which means the history we learn in school…by human nature is misguided…missing certain facts and truths…it tends to be one-sided.

But…as we gain knowledge…as our minds open…as we learn what really happened…as truer stories are told…we realize how this more accurate version of history…differs from the old.

We now know throughout our country’s history many injustices have been scattered…we know how badly the Native American, the Japanese and women have been treated….we know what lead to Black lives matter.

There are some, however who don’t want the truth to be taught…they are indignant…bitter and mad…they want our children to learn of our good…while completely ignoring our bad.

I feel these people have forgotten the true meaning of the word history…have forgotten how the good and the bad we all must see…

how else can we ever gain knowledge from our inquiry?

It isn’t always comfortable to look at our mistakes…

but our injustices, our abuses, our inequalities we need to know…

for unless we also look at our worse behaviors…

how can we ever grow?

FROM ONE CASTLE IN THE SAND

 

They were walking on the beach one morning…together hand-in-hand…when, overwhelmed by a memory, he stopped in front of a castle in the sand.

“Do you remember,” he whispered, “when we built our first castle in the sand?”

She nodded…laid her head upon his shoulder…and gently squeezed his hand.

And soon her memory joined with his…two children a chance encounter…unexpected…totally unplanned…who met upon a beach and together built a castle in the sand.

Back then they didn’t think about it…they were too young to understand how much their life would be constructed around that castle in the sand.

Knowing their parents vacationed on that beach the two children hatched a plan…to meet up every summer and build a castle in the sand.

After many summers building castles the two of them began taking long walks in the moonlight…together hand-in-hand

And then, one summer’s evening he got down on one knee in the sand to ask, “Will you marry me and help me build our castle on the land?”

And so they married…built their castle complete with family…so grand…all from the humble beginning of one castle in the sand.

Which is why…just like the day they met…another moment unexpected……totally unplanned…they got down on their hands and knees together…and built a castle in the sand.

ON THE RIVER OF TIME

 

We are all floating in a boat on the river of time...

no motor

no sails

no rowing

for the river of time moves in one direction...

her current…ever-flowing.

There are times I’m thrilled she is moving

passing through the sun’s rays and the moon’s beams

for if her current ever stopped…

we’d have no memories…no dreams.

Still, there are times I wish she’d pause

days when love and tenderness seem stronger 

moments of perfection…I wish would last a little longer.

That’s not how time works, however

she is an endless flowing stream.

which means it’s up to us to turn those moments of perfection into memories….

and our wishes into dreams.

SONGBIRD

 

It’s not always easy to stay joyful and optimistic in the midst of a pouring rain…to smile and stay hopeful when I see what’s happening to the people of Ukraine.

But then…on my walk this morning there was this bird…when the sky was painted black..who every other bird I imagine must think a maniac.

While all the other birds were sleeping…their heads nestled neath their wings…this bird woke up early and she began to sing.

I stopped to listen to her singing long before the sun’s first glow…

and I wondered…does she know the daylight’s coming?…

in the dark…how could she know?

Still…she filled the morning air with music and my darkened walk with grace…and though I could not see her I imagined a huge smile on her face.

It was the most beautiful aria I have ever heard…sung for my ears only by an unseen…hidden bird.

And I smiled as I listened to her singing in the day/night interlude…awed at her vitality, her determination…her strength, her fortitude.

It is my sincerest heartfelt hope that, from this moment on, 

whenever it is joy or optimism I lack…

I will remember this morning

and an unseen bird who sang to me

when the sky was painted black.

DAVID AND GOLIATH

 It seems appropriate that our children visited Michelangelo’s marble statue of David yesterday…(from the hotel where they’re staying…David was just a stone’s throw away.)

Everything the Israelites had…the philistines wanted to obtain…it’s a lot like what is happening today…With Russia and Ukraine.

But they fought their war a little differently back then…if we are to believe the scriptural writing…each side sent out their strongest warrior…and he would do the fighting.

The philistines sent out Goliath…the preeminent warmonger…confident that in all the world…there was no warrior stronger.

For 40 days Goliath taunted the Israelites…for he knew…and they knew he was much too strong…until a young boy with a sling and five stones…his name was David…came along.

The culmination of the story is certainly well known …David slew Goliath…brought him down with just one stone.

David was not supposed to win that battle…everyone, except David, was convinced…giving hope to every underdog whose faced a mightier opponent since.

Proving the amount of size and strength a person has…although an important part…is not as important as the size and strength of the courage in one’s heart.

My prayers are with you…the people of Ukraine…in the midst of a battle unlike any battle you have ever seen…as you…the modern day David…face off against the stronger Russian philistine.

As you come face-to-face with your giant… may the courage in your heart never stray…and just like David may you win your battle in an unusual and surprising way.

So one day when my children visit Ukraine…as I have no doubt they will do

they will seek out the landmarks of your great country…

and stand in awe in front of a marble stature 

sculpted to look like you.

OUR BOOK

 

The book of our life opened when we were born…from that moment everything we experience…every adventure we ever take or took…are faithfully transcribed upon the pages of that book.

Meaning every day we are alive…every day we age…whether we realize it or not…we’ve written another page.

I’ve often wondered if that’s the reason why we fall asleep at night…to give our heart a chance to think our mind a chance do dream…and our brain a chance  to write.

Of course it is our parents who begin the writing…until such time we’ve grown…

old enough to pick up the pen…and begin writing on our own.

We meet so many different people in our life…literally…everywhere we look…which means we will find them mentioned…in the pages of our book.

Some will be a footnote…perhaps in only one sentence they appear…

crossing our path momentarily…and then they disappear.

Others will linger in the pages of our book…their influence reaching far…

for not only do they help to write our story…they help determine who we are.

Some of our pages will be filled with losses…some…will be filled with wins.

This page may be the end a chapter…while on this page…one begins.

Every page we’ve ever written once the ink has dried is there for us to see…as each chapter, each page, each paragraph each sentence…becomes a memory.

And though we cannot rewrite the past…we do control the pen

which means each day when we rise…we begin to write again.…

Adding another chapter to our story…recording all life’s stages…

Hoping when it’s time to close our book…

we’ll be happy with what we’ve written on its pages.

IMAGES

 

They are all around us…they are something we can’t…we should not ignore…the destruction…the heartache…the sorrow…the images of war.

As I watch one country try to take over another country that was autonomous and free I am struck how war brings out the best and worst in us…by its dichotomy.

In a war we see missiles flying…bombs dropping…bullets trying to kill as many people as they can…it is the very definition of man’s inhumanity to man.

But we also see strangers taking in strangers…people helping people any way they can…it is the very definition of man’s humanity to man.

It is amazing once the fighting starts…once war has cast its evil spell…how we not only see how horrible humans can be…but how wonderful as well.

Which gives us something to hang onto…because if the worst in us can bring out the best in us…then there is hope in the future for the rest of us.

Certainly it won’t be easy…in our planet’s history it hasn’t happened yet…and no doubt it will take all our energy…and tons of toil and sweat…

But here is something else we also can’t…we should’t ignore…the more we sweat for peace…the less we bleed in war.

How can such a simple concept be so difficult to comprehend…

Peace is the only thing that can ever save a world that war is trying desperately to end

I imagine, however, the best reason we should strive that wars forever cease…

is so that the eyes of every baby born…will only see images of peace.

FILLING IN THE BLANKS

 

Immediately after a grandson and his grandma walked into the bookstore…the grandson walked up to me…a little bit bemused…and asked if I would help his grandma…he smiled saying…”She is a bit confused.”

“Certainly!” I said without a moment’s hesitation…then the grandson told me this story…as a way of explanation. 

Grandma was always giving me little gifts…to praise me when I’d succeed or to encourage me when I’d fall.  She filled my life with memories…perhaps her greatest gift of all.

So many wonderful memories over the years…such a wide and beautiful array…

which is why it makes me sad to watch her memories slipping away.

“I can’t understand it!” She will say as tears from her eyes spill. 

“But there are blanks within my memory I cannot seem to fill.”

It so unfair…so depressing…so confusing…so unkind…

to watch so many of our wonderful memories get lost within her mind.

So now, every time I visit her…whether planned or out of the blue

I bring with me my smile…and all my memories too.

Sometimes we sit for hours…sharing a laugh, a smile… a groan….

Hoping from out my shared memories she’ll find some of her own.

“When I saw your bookstore I thought perhaps it will help plant a seed into my grandma’s memories…because grandma loved to read.”

Luckily the store was empty…was it luck…or was if fate…so for the next 20 minutes I took his grandma on a date.

We walked around I showed her books…mostly I answered her questions…even when…she asked me the same questions…over and over again.

I’m not sure how much good I did…if any memories she reclaimed…

but just before they left her grandson thanked me…just the same.

As I watched them walk away I thought what a beautiful way to say I love you…

what a wonderful way of giving thanks…

a grandson sharing his memories with his grandma…

doing his best to fill in all her blanks. 

BEHIND THEIR EIES

 

What is it about a wedding that puts a smile on our face…

It’s more than just the grandeur…the splendor…the pageantry…the grace.

It’s also that in any wedding…we know at least a portion of the cast…

and we meld our hopes for their future together…with our memories of the past.

We attended a wedding the other day…in a covered tent…outside…

for many years Deborah has been best friends with the mother of the bride.

Through a lifetime of peaks and valleys their friendship has endeared

beginning long before the vestiges of age…on their faces…first appeared.

While they still thought only of childhood things…when they didn’t think too far ahead.

Long before they had children…one of whom was about to wed.

I imagine as she watched her daughter getting married…watched her smile glow…

Mom’s mind might have wandered back…to a time not so long ago…

A time when her daughter was a baby…when she held her in her arms…

when she whispered in her ear…I’m here…I will keep you safe from harm…

I imagine there were tears in her eyes…I wonder if anyone heard…

when, with a smile accompanying her tears she whispered softly…proudly…

I kept my word.

I can imagine what Deborah was thinking…as once again their lives were paired..

glad to be part of another milestone these two old friends have shared.

The wedding was quite beautiful…but sometimes the most beautiful parts of a wedding…are the things we have to look a little harder to see.

Like two old friends who over the years have become part of each others family…

Like the smile shared by the bride and groom…

as in front of them their entire future lies…

Like the look of love and joy, delight and pride…

behind a friend’s…

and a mother’s eyes.

A VERY GOOD DAY

 

We have been blessed to be living a life where…no matter what has come our way…when we wake up every morning we can smile and say…

Yesterday was a very good day.

Let’s take yesterday for instance…in the early morning we drove our two eldest children to the airport…there, amid the threat of stormy weather,

we got to see them off…they’re traveling to Italy…together.

As parents we told them to have a good time…secretly praying they’ll be okay….

Then with a hug and a kiss we said buon viaggio…and sent them on their way.

Later in the afternoon and into the evening…the two of us were blessed to attend…the wedding of the eldest daughter of Deborah’s oldest and dearest friend.

The wedding was held in Deborah’s friend’s back yard…following a morning of stormy weather…we got to wish them well…as they began their married life…together.

We watched as her parents told the couple to have a good life…knowing secretly they were praying everything will be okay…then with a hug and a kiss they said good-bye…and sent them on their way.

From the early morning into the evening all on the very same day

we got to experience love…in two of its abundant ways… 

On the same day we got to see our children and a newly married couple fly off into the future…with new worlds to explore…blessed to be a part of their lives…blessed to be there to watch them soar….

Last night we slept like babies…exhausted from all the love and excitement that came our way….

and this morning we woke with smiles on our faces

agreeing how yesterday…was…a very good day.

TORTOISE HUNTERS

 

Deborah and I were thrilled the other day when we volunteered to serve as wildlife researchers at the Boyd Hill Nature Preserve.

We joined up with other novice researchers…formed a line to comb one part of the preserve looking for gopher tortoise burrows…to see if they were home.

It is important research because gopher tortoises are threatened in Florida and if we want them to survive we need to ensure they have a habitat where they can live…and thrive.

Why gopher tortoises you may ask…what do they do for you….or me?

Because they are important to the circle of life…to the balance of nature…to our planet’s harmony.

They are known as keystone species…meaning whatever happens in their ecosystem…to the climate or the weather…Gopher tortoises are indispensable…they hold the group together.

Gopher tortoises build large burrows…and once they’ve been bulldozed…

they welcome in other species…their door is never closed.

Meaning as many as 350 species can share their home…in fact in the home these tortoises make…you may find moths and beetles, crickets and flies…frogs and mice and snakes.

Meaning each gopher tortoise builds in their area…agrarian

A commune…a commune for nature…only this one’s subterranean.

Without the gopher tortoise…life in this section of the land would cease to be…

throwing off it’s balance…throwing off it’s harmony

I wondered if we could learn from the gopher tortoise…as we attempted to count every one..trudging through the underbrush… under the heat of the Florida sun….

I wondered what our world would be like if we opened our homes and our hearts to all species large and small…

what kind of world would we live in…

If we made keystone species of us all?

Something to think about as we watch the threatened country of Ukraine struggling to survive…trying to ensure they have a habitat where their families can not only live…but thrive.

WHEN DID WE. FORGET

 

If we were created, as I believe we were created, to help anyone in need

why is there so much cupidity…so much avarice and greed?

If we were created, as I believe we were created to love and not to hate…why is our world filled with so much animus…why do we discriminate?

If we were created, as I believe we were seated to heal…not to harm

why when there are disagreements do we choose to fight and take up arms?

If we were created, as I believe we were created, to build…not to destroy

why are there wars where we drop bombs on little girls and boys.

Helping those in need…

Loving…not hating

Healing…doing no harm…

Building…not destroying

Are these simply concepts that have become outdated…

or

Have so many of us simply forgotten why we were created?