Loss is the great unifier, the terrible club to which we all eventually belong.
I dream of songs. I dream they fall down through the centuries, from my distant ancestors, and come to me. I dream of lullabies and sea shanties and keening cries and rhythms and stories and backbeats.
I was sensitive to music and poetry, and it was around me growing up.
Just a thank you is a mighty powerful prayer. Says it all.
It was never too late to undo who you had become.
I am so sick of reading about another car bomb, another suicide bomber, another 10, 20, 30, 70, 100 people dead in a day, both Americans and Iraqis.