Holding up the sky

News blaring, eyes staring, accusations thrown as

grenades to the other side. It sometimes-

It sometimes just becomes too much to see the

Abuse on either side to

see people dying under bright flashes of light. News

always pointing fingers at the

tension thrumming between world powers as

the hurricanes swarm and temperatures spike with earth as

a head on a wooden spike, to see

the growing danger of nuclear weapons aimed at

us.

 

But as we watch the news my mom wraps a hand around my

shoulders, her warmth a boulder against the chaotic storm

rising from the world. The next day someone holds open the

door, my friend holds my hand in the midst of

panic and whirlwind of tests,

heads held high, always held tall even though

the world is falling around us but 

people always try to catch the sky

as the acorns rain as thick as whipped

cream from a 

seam in space.

 

There is desperation swimming in the air but it’s

not just the feeling of hopelessness when the world is filled with

people who mix chemicals and see if

there is something to stitch up the broken oceans.

People who

volunteer to plant trees, save the bees, watch the skies turn blue

turning back to the past when the birds flew

through the sky without the shrapnel of gunfire

shattering the clouds. Hope is hard to eradicate when

people still try to hold up the sky when

the inevitable seems to lurch closer and closer but,

we still stumble on