Monday Mourning Dove

On Monday this week, I thought about a story a friend had told about his mother and a bird. “What bird is making all that racquet,”she asked. “A Mourning Dove,” my friend replied. afternoon!” But it’s afternoon,”his mom said.

That led me to thinking about how many are”mourning” over the state of our world. The pandemic has caused so many deaths to be mourned. The killing of black people and others in protests and for no reasons at all are causing more mourning. Not just in the black community but among all caring people. What is wrong with people? Why have we still not learned–as we were taught in kindergarten–to be kind, take turns, share and listen more than talk?

On top of all that the country is besieged by hurricanes and floods and fires that cause people to lose their homes and businesses.

Like all mourning, it takes time to process and reach a new type of normal. If you think about it, we should learn from the past but not try to return to it. We have to pray, talk to each other and step out to a morning that is brighter and not one steeped and steaming with “mourning.”

Photo by amit mishra on Pexels.com

Connie’s Coffee Chat

I got up this morning and thought I looked fine,

Then I put in my contacs and saw the decline

Deep wrinkles and fine lines–though fewer of those,

After a deep sigh–I just put on my clothes.

What else can you do, when we’re all stuck inside,

But pray for each other until this subsides.

Check on your neighbor by phone or by text,

None of us know what is happening next.

The days loom before us–a deep dark abyss,

I keep remembering how I once longed for this.

To have no reason to rise and rush out,

Just to love and help each other–that’s what it’s all about.