Let’s Go Home

bluebells with mountains Sometimes I just want
to go home, stop the
quest and rest in the
loving arms of God.


    • How interesting that you read suicide in this poem. I was not thinking about that at all, only that some days, I want to be held and soothed in this world of increasing madness. I suppose that suicide could be called murder, although that seems like a definition that lacks compassion. Surely, those who commit this desperate act have been failed by the rest of us somehow. What would our world need to be like so that no one would ever think that suicide is the answer to their pain? Ket’s work to create this loving world, shall we? hugs, pat


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