For my Orlando
In the midst.
Squint my eyes, cock my head. Am I hearing correctly?
Belly sinks, leaden by weights.
Ripples of silent nausea rising.
Just ripples. Silently rising.
The brain snaps on.
Call my kids.
Call my husband.
Connect with my tribe.
Turn off the television.
What has happened, has happened.
Honor the darkness no longer.
Cover Orlando with a quilt of gentleness.
Cast out a net of softness over our community.
May every man and woman of Orlando see hope.
Even if only as a pinpoint of light just beginning.
As a morning sunrise first appears over water.
Thank you for the goodness that I know will prevail.
by an ex Winter Park resident, who was in Northern Michigan all week..