Perhaps a day will come when all the questions will be answered. Then there will no longer be a why or how, but until then let us use our imagination and think about the positive. What if each child could be taught the golden rule. What if every child could graduate school. What if we each gave more than we received. What if we all pitched in to help cure a disease. What if we all stood together as one. What if we stopped hating and began to love. Imagine the power that we could have. If we only made what if, a reality.

Under the shade of Spanish moss and deep inside the bayou, something crawled out and shook off the dirt and grime. It sat upon a rock and looked at the sun. It was long green and scaly, but no one knew quite what it was. It just yawned and lay flat. For hours it sat idly then a local politician passed by, the thing jumped quickly and gobbled him up. With a full belly it slithered back into the murky bayou, never to be seen again.

We are all born naked and cold and hungry. We all die alone inside ourselves. In between we may move up or down, but our ending and beginning our the same. All that we can do is strive to make the world a better or worse place in a hope that when we leave that we have touched lives and left a legacy that will help others do better than we have done ourselves, so at the end when we are all again equal, that we will not leave with regret for what might have been.

The cuts riddle the body, the blood oozes from the wounds. A calm silence fills the air. No gasp for air, just a gentle sleep. Rest has finally found a weary soul, though it might seem like a gruesome end. Few will ever know the torment that a conscience wrestled with day and night. The unimaginable demons that clawed at the psyche of the person now at rest. Like a thousand bee's buzzing in the head, so were the endless voices of discontent. Pills only dulled the buzzing to a humming, that still caused turmoil and violent emotional storms. Now all is quiet as people in White coats with squeaky shoes come into the room. They move the now restful soul to another bed and wheel the mortal remains away. While somewhere in a quiet corner of eternity, the person that was is being reborn. A new creature with only one voice telling them what to do, and not many demons trying to steal a piece of their soul.

Weary child come unto me and I will let you rest. Wayward soul that has lost it's way follow me on the path that is straight. You that are thirsty, come and drink from my well. I will fill you will living water that will never run dry. Those who feel for gotten, know that I remember you. Even the Sparrow does not fall from it's nest that I do not see. Come set down your troubles and eat from my table. Let me help you bear your load, come lay your burdens down.

I walk by a lake and look at the clouds. I see the leaves losing their hues of Green. I remember what it was like when you walked beside me. Now I am not sure how I feel. I hold an empty space inside that I am trying to fill. I look to recapture the old magic that we shared. I stop and stand by an old stump as I watch the lake lap at the shore line. I close my eyes as the breeze touches my cheek and I imagine that it is your hand, as I fall back into old memories and try to fill a void that was left in me when you went away.

The buildings are crumbling yet people live in them. The sidewalks are covered with filth but people still walk on them. The roads are filled with potholes but people still drive on them. There is a gloom that hangs thick in the air, but children are still at play. A neighborhood that once was as soon will not be, is more than the buildings, the sidewalks or the streets. The people are the fabric of the community and in some of them there is still hope. Though poverty and violence may seem to be a way of life, light still shines in the dark corners. Laughter and kindness is shared between neighbors and comes from children. So despite the grim picture that others may paint, I saw many things but most of all I saw hope in the streets.