A few days remain in our summer holiday.
Simplicity, rest. Swimming.
The intense heat.
Children laughing —
some tears, some burned meals,
late mornings,
fresh fruit —
figs from the tree.
A gift, every time.
We’ve stepped away,
but never too far
from the realities unfolding beyond this peace.
There’s beauty here:
in meals shared,
in slow afternoons,
in generosity and small joys.
And yet —
my hands still hold the weight of what’s happening in the world.
I try to find a place for it —
amidst all this light.
I try to reconcile the contrast.
All I can really do
is hold it.
And offer what I can
to heal it.
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