This country is driving me crazy. I can’t see beauty without pain. The laughter of dozens of kids gathered for camp has become a five inch needle thrust into my heart. I see someone with an agenda and a semi-automatic weapon parking and walking towards the lake where the children are gathered. I wonder what the gunman is thinking. Glory? Fame? Maybe he’s schizophrenic like the killer at Sandy Hook whose motives will never be known. Maybe he’s a gay ISIS wannabee out to prove his masculinity. It doesn’t matter what skin he’s wearing, his soul is the NRA. The heart that keeps his blood flowing is a congressmen who does nothing. The feet that propel him towards innocent lives, closer and closer are people who carry on about the 2nd Amendment. I wish I could cover them all with the blood of the innocents.
Even if the gun is a fishing pole and the man peacefully passes the children I see the mutilated body of someone’s beloved child. I see the lake turning red as blood passes backpacks filled with lunch and love notes toward the water. I hear screams instead of laughter, chaos instead of tranquility, I see children hiding behind the silver canoes instead of rowing across the lake; pleading for their mothers instead of singing The Cat Came Back. I see the helpless park rangers frantically calling 911 unable to articulate what was happening because who could imagine? Who could imagine anyone wanting to shoot children at a summer camp? Who could imagine anyone wanting to shoot worshippers at prayer? Who could imagine anyone wanting to shoot up a Christmas party?
Then I feel the pain of a thousand parents, siblings, uncles, aunts and cousins as they all wonder why and the only answer that keeps echoing back is greed and stupidity.
So lock me away from the beauty in the world. I can no longer see it.
From Writing for the Absent Reader available on Amazon