There is no real pattern in the catastrophic calamity.
I look for things to salvage as I sort through the casualties…
Homes burned to the ground.
Cars smashed and discarded.
Possessions pillaged and plundered.
Material objects ravaged of any sentiment.
All collateral damage, but then the real victims begin to appear…
Two small children, lost and confused, cannot comprehend their loss.
An ex wife depleted of all energy, remains strong despite her pain.
A brother and a sister rip through the rubble trying to find a memory of their hero.
The faint wailing of a grieving mother tears at my soul, as she mourns her missing child…
Broken hearts are littered amongst the debris of past relationships.
Bits and pieces of dreams, shards of talent and unmet goals, all scattered without regard.
Self-respect and dignity lay twisted in a useless heap.
Potential and purpose buried deep beneath the wreckage…
Like a whirlwind, I ran helter skelter through people’s lives with no concern for those who were in my way.
How do I objectively catalog the haphazard and aimless devastation, when the only common denominator was me?
I become accountable.
How do I calculate the cost of my actions?
I pay for what I have done, directly and indirectly, without question.
How do I repair the damage?
I fix what can be saved and begin to build something stronger out of my harms.
I walk fearlessly through the darkness of my past, toward the salvation of a bright new day.
I am filled with hope.
Reflection is my toughest teacher because it tests me first, and then provides me with a lesson.