This is a haiku journal, not a political journal. But, as in life, fiction (or, in this case, poetry) often collides with reality. When I posted my last entry on “epiphany,” I had no way of foreseeing the tragic events that would occur when an Arizona gunman let loose his venom at a political rally held, of all places, in a supermarket parking lot. I thought about those events today as I traveled to my own supermarket. The snow had just started falling. Unlike other parts of the country, this was the first snow of our winter season. And, like most first snows, it carried with it mythic connotations–of cleansing and hope, as well as a certain amount of caution, if not fear. I pray for the first set of responses for all of us as we tentatively make our way down the path to a new year–one where tolerance trumps hatred, where hope replaces fear.
the world inside out . . . first snow . . .
first snow turning the world