Again the urge

to bring gauze

to the broken world—

and medicine

and a plaster cast.

Again the urge

to fix things,

to heal them,

to make them right.

Again the chance

to do the work,

which is to look in,

to touch the pain

but not become it,

to see the world

exactly as it is

and still write it

a love letter,

to meet what is cracked

with clarity,

to mirror and grow

whatever beauty

we find.

~Rosemary Wahtola Trommer

where am I now?

inquiry for today~ what and how will you know?

the simplest expression of love….

Even in the darkest days, the moon and sun make their ancient, reliable journeys.

Birds sing. Some green thing insists on growing in a ravaged land.

Our own human life force refuses to give up.

~Trebbe Johnson