It’s raining angels
Looking up from the seafloor to the skies
This way the weight comes off my eyes
To produce tears
We’re already drowning in those shed by our own
Anxiety threatens us, simply picking up the phone
Tired of the announcements
Exhausted from eulogies typing themselves
Lots of questions about afterlife
Heavens and hells
Or those who believed in neither
Where do they go, or are they really even gone
Intense inquiries bringing people to their proverbial knees
As they await
The next major headline
And what do we do with this information?
Crumble? Feeling as few
Or build as a nation
Learning to love living life as a gift
Allowing, to let go the insignificant from causing a rift
Sifting through the emotions of grief and despair
No time to hold breath, knowing the next one is near
Could it be you, yours, me or mine?
One way or the other, hopefully we can recognize that it’s time
DaraMonifah Cooper is a mother, educator, community activist, writer, multimedia artist and owner of Conch Shell Media (LLC) offering Communications/PR services, online marketing/advertising consulting, production and education in the Virgin Islands and in the Southern U.S.
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