The world is seething these days,
tumbling in all directions
in a hot, angry spill.
I wonder how to cope some days. I scroll over a few news nuggets and am sickened in my stomach.
And then I chance upon the equivalents of a deep, cleansing breath. A dog that wags his tail as our eyes meet. He shuffles up to me for an unabashed rub. Carnations, pink, white and red, which sit contentedly in a long bucket on the side of the road, keeping the flower-seller company. The diary of a girl called Anne Frank.
It is not all evil. There is good. I repeat this to myself as I remember Maya Angelou’s words. Still I rise.