Light nestles in the crevices of my mind.
I did not invite it, but it refuses not to
come in.
I turn my back on it, not ready for its message
of hope. Sometimes its too much too feel hopeful.
The pain of so many young lives
robbed still rings in the air all around
me. I try to imagine the tears that fall from
the eyes of so many–the families, the community,
the world–I imagine them falling into my hands.
I wish I could catch them all, but I can’t.
My hands are too small. My hands are just too small.
And yet I know there is one whose hands are capable of catching
these tears, of holding them sacred for us all.
So I turn to the light, I allow it to bathe
my face, sing softly to my spirit, and lead me by
the hand from the precipice of  this darkness,                                                                                                                                                     moment by moment to                                                                                                                                                                                                          the awaiting beams of God’s radiant light….

Written for the victims of the Sandy Hook Shooting, Conneticut

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