It was a clear day. . .

And the sky was blue, the air clean, only in the
distance was the haze that our inversion brings.
But as the morning hours continued and smoke
began to fill the western sky, the mountains and hills are
hidden from view . . . we thought we had been spared but
once again devastation is brought upon our land.

The creatures have no perch to raise
their young to rest their wings
Yet unlike us, when tragedy comes
and into despair we fall, they
spread their flight to brighter spots

Please may we be reminded the blade
of grass will once again push up through
dust and ashes
The grain of wheat will bring
bread again to our tables
And though we cannot see it now
the hills hidden from our view
will one day reappear when
the sun breaks through!

“[We] will lift up [our] eyes to the
hills, from where comes [our] help”

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