Clouded thoughts hung heavy on my ancient soul as the passing of dreams floated by and I stood still – frozen – in deep fear as I face my demons alone.
I squinted through the narrow window trying to see the clock. How many years, months, days, minutes, or seconds until they open my cage and let me stretch. How long until I get my day in court? They have to let me go home. Don’t they? Isn’t that how it works? The guilty go to prison…
I laid back down on the scant mattress and rolled my towel for a pillow. A hot tear runs down my face as I think of the yesterdays – playing in the park and flying kites to see if I could reach the clouds. The smell of flowers and fresh cut grass surrounding me. It all seems so unreal now.
I don’t remember the smells of life or of my children. The constant odor of feces mixed with fear was my reality now.
If only…If only I had escaped the clutches of a madman. I would be flying kites to the clouds with my children and now grandchildren.
Now I am home – yet they are grown – our kite strings have been severed. But I won’t give up. Not on me – not on them.
I look to the clouds and pray – may our kites one day reach you again. May our dreams float down and heal the damage of the unjust storm.