You know I just wouldn't be human if I didn't try and hold your hand as it disintegrated from the light of a thousand suns somewhere above Hiroshima. Or kiss the tears from your cheeks in Iraq, like the sweat from your brow in Zimbabwe. It isn't in me not to try and lift the rubble crushing you in Gaza or hide you in Rwanda. Like a last hug in a building in New York or the water we shared in Afghanistan. More than the blood we mixed in Flanders or the sandy beach we trod in Normandy. Longer than the fires burned in Dresden or Soweto. I won't let go of your hand.
I need you to understand something. I wrote this for you. I wrote this for you and only you. Everyone else who reads it, doesn’t get it. They may think they get it, but they don’t. This is the sign you’ve been looking for. You were meant to read these words.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
The Pressure To The Wounded
You know I just wouldn't be human if I didn't try and hold your hand as it disintegrated from the light of a thousand suns somewhere above Hiroshima. Or kiss the tears from your cheeks in Iraq, like the sweat from your brow in Zimbabwe. It isn't in me not to try and lift the rubble crushing you in Gaza or hide you in Rwanda. Like a last hug in a building in New York or the water we shared in Afghanistan. More than the blood we mixed in Flanders or the sandy beach we trod in Normandy. Longer than the fires burned in Dresden or Soweto. I won't let go of your hand.
Oh wow.
ReplyDeleteHaving to choose just one post, I'd choose this one. I love the whole project, though.
ReplyDeleteyour blog makes me feel extremely exposed. in a really good way.
ReplyDeletei love this
ReplyDeleteincomparable.
ReplyDeleteThat, was great. Am lost for words.
ReplyDeleteGood God, you are beautiful.
ReplyDeletethis made me gasp.
ReplyDeletewow. just...wow.
amazing..
ReplyDeletei'd try to hold on to your hand...
I don't know why.
ReplyDeleteI cried.
i go back and read this every once in a while, it gets me every time. write a book, i would love that.
ReplyDelete13 January 2009 - I buried my 4 year old boy on this sad day...
ReplyDeleteI love all your posts, but this one takes the cake. It just covers EVERYTHING, like all humankind and its history of suffering and hope in a few sentences.
ReplyDeleteEach time I read this I am still in awe.
ReplyDeleteWhen the pressures of parents and expectations pull me away from the simple beauty of the world, I come and read your blog;
ReplyDeleteand it reminds me that I want to be great someday. But not in the picket fence millionaire way, but in the "I changed someones life today" way. You remind of this.
Thanks for that.
Favorite.. by far. There is no comparision. <3
ReplyDelete