Where Am I Now?

So, please forgive me - these are a few of my random thoughts for today. If you read nothing else, find the last stanza and listen to its song.....

Child of the Sea

I search for quiet...for the peace that my soul is longing for.
In a dizzying world of fast and faster,
to find the calm necessary to draw upon often seems daunting.
The noise of busy is accompanied by the noise of learning.
Taking in, processing such strong emotion,
sorrow,
hatred,
and utter inhumanity is mind numbing.
The orchestra of my thoughts whirls in a crescendo of bass
and wind
and trumpet
and steel.

This thing, this idea of forgiveness shakes to the core
my inner realization of life, of learning, and understanding.
To be on the precipice of knowledge leaves me squarely at the starting line.
Forgiveness.
What does it mean?
To speak aloud, is that enough?
The music of history plays to the drum of humanity.
Marching, pressing,
flying and falling.
The lullaby, a children's hymn,
calms our fears and disillusion envelops the reality
of what is and what will be.

Imagination is a question of reality.
What will life lead us to envision next?
But when dreams fall into a cascading river of blood
there are no words to be spoken.
Dreaming of quiet, of peace.
Imagining a world where dreams are in color
and the lullaby is soft, soothing.
No lure, no rapid rise and fall.

What does it mean, to forgive?
What does it mean, to understand?
Quiet and calm, words with no meaning.
Look at their eyes, their soft, brown,
dying eyes.
Live with their story.

Sing for their sorrow.
Hush little baby,
don't say a word.
Momma's gonna buy you a mockingbird.

Sing for their lives, marched into oblivian.
And if that mockingbird don't sing,
Momma's gonna buy you a diamond ring.

Sing for their hopes, their pain, and their joy.
And if that diamond ring turns brass,
Momma's gonna buy you a looking glass.

Sing for their faces, their reflection stolen.
And if that looking glass gets broke,
Momma's gonna buy you a billy goat.

Sing for their love, longing and life.
And if that billy goat runs away.

Sing for their babies, lost in feces and despair.
Momma's gonna buy you another day.

Sing for the child alone in a sea of corpses, calling for his mother.
Let your song blend with his desperate cries.
Allow the music on your lips to envelop his thin, naked body.
Sing until he is calm.
Hum the melody of a child's song as he kneels beside his mother's cold body.
Watch as he rests his head upon her breast.
See as he closes his eyes.
Feel as his spirit dies in a sea of ashes and flesh.
Breathe his last breath.
Walk forward with his story upon your lips.
Close your eyes, envision his life that will never be.
Find solace in your ability to speak.
Tell all of his song - screams stifled by hatred.
And always...sing for the child of the sea.