Suzanna, your poem reflects exactly how I felt a week ago right now when, during a family cookout in South Carolina, a great-nephew checked his phone, showed me the story that Iran was attacking Israeli installations with hundreds of drones and said, "Well, here comes World War III." It didn't turn out that way this time, at least yet, but I fear it could soon. In such dark times, we need new light to show us the way to peace.
Stick matches were part of the kitchen on my grandmother‘s farm.
She would strike the match on the edge of the stove and prepare to fix bacon and freshly gathered eggs in a sizzling iron pan. Life on the farm was simpler then with news coming from WHO radio at noon with the farm report.
The farmers almanac was good enough to plan for the season. But not as good as the meticulous diary kept for many years as to what the weather was when garden crops were planted and field work was done in the past.
Our soul is some combination of everyone we ever learned from and what we have chosen to do with it over the years. With an eye to the past, we should be able to help guide our own future.
Lately it seems like we might all be better off with just the noon report from the radio and then get on with our day.
Suzanna, your poem reflects exactly how I felt a week ago right now when, during a family cookout in South Carolina, a great-nephew checked his phone, showed me the story that Iran was attacking Israeli installations with hundreds of drones and said, "Well, here comes World War III." It didn't turn out that way this time, at least yet, but I fear it could soon. In such dark times, we need new light to show us the way to peace.
Thank you, Suzanna. As always, you give me something to think about........................
Stick matches were part of the kitchen on my grandmother‘s farm.
She would strike the match on the edge of the stove and prepare to fix bacon and freshly gathered eggs in a sizzling iron pan. Life on the farm was simpler then with news coming from WHO radio at noon with the farm report.
The farmers almanac was good enough to plan for the season. But not as good as the meticulous diary kept for many years as to what the weather was when garden crops were planted and field work was done in the past.
Our soul is some combination of everyone we ever learned from and what we have chosen to do with it over the years. With an eye to the past, we should be able to help guide our own future.
Lately it seems like we might all be better off with just the noon report from the radio and then get on with our day.
Steve Cuddy
If only the light were bright enough for all to see, we might not have wars. Or perhaps they choose not to see it.