taken from Morning Pages

Thursday Morning, cold wind on sodden Cymru ground. In summary – unsummery…

Maybe the frozen hearts and furious minds of Zion have  affected the geo-thermal layers of global reasoning / resulting in an upside down response to the recent solar sky magnificence.

Or maybe the tears of Gaza have collected in passing clouds of grey reality and dumped themselves in places of no-ones choosing?

All eyes of Rafa and yet still the bombs fall ferociously whilst Tanks rape the social fabric of these unholy lands, terrain hushed amidst a shitty silence from those whose voices should be heard from within the painful polluted poisonous politic.

The braying rhetoric of revenge as October 7^th is rehashed & rehomed in the resonance of blame and excuses. Arms manufactures gleefully raising prices in overtime mode whilst investment profits from the smouldering smoke & thunder.

Hostages held hidden whilst the ransom note fades and retribution builds in the hearts of orphans raised in the camps of catastrophe. The endless oppression of firepower aimed at a people paralysed by poverty and wartorn needs, where water is in short supply whilst aid in convoy sits idling at the gates of this hellswept land.

All eyes on Rafa as the UN issues edicts and orders ignored by the warlords of semitic hew.

Daily the atrocities land in our subconscious and scar humanity.

Hourly the moments tick away pronouncing death and claiming life as unimportant.

Shocking news disturbs our daily bread. Stale platitudes in place of action.

Illness prevails and sickness deepens in the psyche of those who trumpet self defence.

The Iron Dome shines against the rocks and stones of West Bank resistance as Hamas forces itself into hidden places. Its people bearing the brunt of unbluntable rage

All sense is lost within the loss of true perspective.

Defective reasoning rejects the time it takes to find solutions and so the storms continue to form and carry the pain of daily downpours.

Shame sits with all of us and its scars will haunt our morrows full of sorrow.

As June looms close can we imagine a change in the weather?

Unless we can it is too late.