In the deep quiet of the night there used to live an endless invitation to set your spirit to soaring . A time set aside for discovery and an opportunity to break the boldest or the most mysterious bonds holding onto you .
Now in the dead of the night are the children . Children that did not ask for this life . Children being criminalized simply for being alive . Children being whisked through airports like some strange secret , like a lie .
The wailing , the visceral sounds of the wailing of the innocent babes and their Mamas being torn apart will follow these men in charge to their graves . They don’t know it yet . But it will . Haunting a spirit for evermore will be the suffering caused by the deeds of men with no heart and no soul .
I’ve learned that it does not suit me too well to sit in the quiet of hope but , rather , to be in the wild of it . This is not to say that there isn’t great value in quieting the mind . There is , there truly is . There are those delicious times when hope lives it’s mightiest in the doing , in the wild side , the wild side of hope .