Once I thought to escape winter by moving northwest.
The mildness was then a relief to my worn frame.
Not anymore. The winter followed me afoot.
Is it attached without a chance for coincidence?
Why would the seasons be aware of a single soul?
Tis´ my yearning for spring animating winter´s cloak.
Did I not see the first lambs springing hither and fro?
2nd February 2015
©By Andrea Connolly
Whose fault is it?
Faults. They are pushed around. Blamed on someone. Brushed under the carpet. Taken lightly. Ignored. Taken on or over. They are a whole spectrum, from feeling to mind-set.
Their roots developed from conscience. The absence of conscience is of yonder matter that darkens the world. Wherever you look nowadays people are to be blamed. Whose fault is it? The spearing question calling for a target. Yet, if we prove our conscience, we could find a good few faults. That’s the destiny of being human. And the chance to overcome all the same. A grown up conscience can admit to faults. That’s were forgiveness begins.
In every relation, between persons, families, friends, regions, religions, counties, countries or continents, there are possibilities, of wrongdoing and of the conscience to overcome faults by forgiveness.
Still, it boggles minds and entangles feelings if we see others without obvious conscience, never admitting to faults, ignoring peace and understanding.
This is the exclamation mark to sift our own conscience, to adjust our being to become more human every day.
18th September 2014
©By Andrea C. Connolly