If I am to write about the struggles, the fights,
the ambushes, the bombs, the killings
I need words I do not want to express
the attempt in describing the utter horror
gives power to its pain
so let me share with you the stories of healing wounds
a flower laid down where our hearts go out to
the soft embrace from a savior
a candle lit in the dark hours
the hands from a friend reaching out
the opening doors by a stranger
pulling you in from harm
the light that enters the crack
for a brief moment only think about that
let this thought take you into the world of compassion
and know this is in you
and in this feeling of helplessness
look for the helpers in all world’s mayhem
and know this is you too
°Woodlights Woudlicht
