The Time of Day

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At the end of the day, we are all alone. For some, this allows time for meditation and a cleansing. For others, it’s like a pot-hole. A vast empty space that jars the road ahead and leads your thoughts astray. Shock absorbers don’t make the bumps easier. There aren’t any. Your mind just spirals downward into a dark reality where the sun seems cloaked in sorrow and despair. A thousand times you’ve pulled yourself up and out of this place but when it begins you can’t imagine how or why.

But you must.

For as the day ends another begins, waiting to be created and hoping you have learned from the day before that silver linings are always there. A bit tarnished and in need of polish they rise up and make you reach beyond what surrounds you.

I am drenched in green and a healthy earth as I write this. It makes me realize how places choose their future. Mowing down Orchards for highways, calling it prosperity.  Building cement cities, filling in the ocean so we may support other countries, taking the water from the farms and forests, calling it a necessity–for the people.  We cannot go back in time and stop those who destroyed the land. We are those people.

We shouldn’t close the borders to stop people from immigrating to this country, we should close them to protect what is left of our land.

Put the health of our land first and it will feed your health.

And the pot-holes? All roads have them. Slow down and they won’t seem as deep.

Plant a Victory Garden. No matter how small; it will help feed the earth.



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