Trying to find Thanksgiving

 In the kaleidoscope of Thanksgiving this year its harder than usual to work out the time and place to give Thanks. 

I do not intend or want to appear ungratiful but, I am. 

This is not my life to burn but, yet here I am. I am misguided in my faith that the North American continent would not dissolve into an Oligarchy. Yet, the United States confirmed an Oligarch on November 5, 2024. 

Does Guy Fawkes know? What of John Galt? 

I think about the people who give, who work on night shifts, who patrol our community, who patiently wait by the door for that lone traveler coming in from the cold. 

I think about the open door, welcome sign, the hearty hello at the drinking establishment that is open to all with a warm plate of food. 

I think about the sanctuary and the reception of warmth. 

The drinking of cool water refreshing one soul. 

At the next minute I remember the horror, the sound of barking dogs of war, the bombs dropping from the sky unimpeded by the innocence that is exhausted below. 

I try to find ways to give thanks and yet, my gratitude is caught in my throat, choking me like the smoke from the fires from the bombs that decimated an innocence of humanities faith. 

Evil is having its way today and Good is fighting tears as I fear that Humanity has unleashed the last of pandora's box looking for a nickel and only finding flint.