Making my way through this darkened city where everyone seems either asleep or merely on the brink of waking up, there is an elusive peacefulness surrounding me. There is the smell of water, the sound of silence & the promise of nothing but promise. How easy it is be to forget that this quiet world, with its illusive sense of safety, is the same world where there was a first war, a second war and then so many wars that we simply lost count. A world where camps were build, trains were filled & people were taken away, never to be seen again. The same world where men, women and child are still being executed, forsaken & forgotten. Where people go out onto our streets & kill in the name of their beliefs; safety wearing thin, as terror hits closer to home & heart time and time again. Yes, this same, old world where history teaches us so much, but where we seem to learn so little.
But this is also the world in which we can chose where we stand, what we stand for & whether we want to stand side by side or all alone. The world in which we chose to believe in the good of others & the strengths of many. A world where we cling to the delicate hope that history has taught us enough to carry us through to a better tomorrow. And a world so beautifully quiet on a cold January morning, somewhere in a far corner of nowhere in particular, that I cannot help but feel fully alive, filled with careful faith & a healthy sense of gratitude for my good fortune.