I don’t blame you, little blossom. I get that you’re down. I’m down. A lot of us are down.
How do we stand tall? When the drops are beating down on your head, the sorrow and worry on mine, the horrors of the world on so many.
But stand tall we must. Stand up, speak out, and make change. Inertia is strong, but we are stronger. The power in place is tall, but we can lift one another up taller yet.
Rise with me, little blossom. Do not bow too long.
plumdirt 
I hear you.
I like this post.
It helps me think:
There’s time,
And with it change.
And there’s light,
bringing hope.
We need hope to turn to action. I think that’s a hard transformation for such a light.
It’s not just you and your droopy little flower. I feel it too. I’ve been struggling with a blog post about it, but no matter how I write it, it just feels icky. So it lumbers in the draft folder with all the other unfinished posts.
At the elementary school where I volunteer several days per week, I attended my first ‘intruder’ drill the day after the shooting. The science teacher, 24 frightened kindergartners and me crouched in a supply closet with a flashlight—and a skeleton. Staying quiet waiting for the ‘all clear’ making shadow puppets on the wall. Surreal.
This is our world now.
Our parents did fallout drills for a potential, unrealized threat. Our children do shooter drills for a very frequent, by comparison to any other school danger, threat.
I’d like to get back to earthquakes and fires, please.
Keep hope alive! And sometimes, we all need a stake.
So true. So true.