we are the flowers

after the destructive fires,

when the newly bloomed meadow flowers

speak clearly with voices full of hope and promise,

the tiny sprouts of trees show gardens of green 

and small birds can again listen to a spring stream of

clear water washing over rounded stones,

i stand in awe, inhaling deeply and grateful to

be among nature in her finery:

hope.

once upon a time, long ago,

i had a brief tour with the

army, and there were no meadow flowers,

no joyful streams, no birds.

the words that came to me said hope wasn't a course of action.

No, it was 

planning and preparation.

precision and purpose.

know your foe.

rely on stealth.

shadows are your friend. 

hope isn't an option.

now, today, while flowers are blooming

i read the awful news of Bondi Beach,

a lovely strip of warm sand and shore and sea

near Sydney, Australia.

It's a celebration for Hanukkah. 

The city's Jewish community has gathered,

children and the elderly.

then, madness! 

bullets fly. 

A respected Rabbi, shot.

A holocaust survivor, shot.

More, too, too many more!

do we feel the loss? 

This tragic event, seemingly far away,

but suddenly Brown University in Providence,

Rhode Island, is looking for flowers, too.

During final exams, inside their classroom,

two students were killed.

Flowers will be at their funerals.

do we feel the loss? 

I know we're going thru rough days,

looking for hope, trying to define it once

again, hold on to it, cherish it.

Hope is here, though.

Immigrants to America hope.

I hope.

And am so blessed to be with my group of Soul Matters

friends.

You give me hope.  I hope i give you hope.

It is our course of action. 

It's in our smiles and our laughter.

Every word we share, every voice spoken,

every moment we acknowledge one another

provides us hope.

And we become the flowers, and the wild birds,

the trees being born, 

the freely flowing streams, and the life-giving sun. 

This is our reality; our hope.