Scales
Symbol of justice.
Tool for measurements. Proportions. Ratios. Ratings.
Do re mi fa sol la ti do: syllables assigned to musical steps in an octave.
Verb for ascent.
Colorful chitin covering moth and butterfly wings.
Bony overlapping plates on crocs and dragons. Clown fish.
I see the clown fish bubble toy at the Fair. What a hoot! I breathe deeper, forget the crowds and heat.
Later, I read the news and feel . . . overwhelmed. On a scale of 1 – 10, I’m at -3.
I read a poem titled “Work,” by Catherine Pierce.
… I remind myself
for every person razing there’s another engineering
a ladder of light.
The scales tilt.
Hope stirs my thoughts, my pen. I fumble an incomplete litany onto the page. Perhaps you’ll assist me?
- For every business depleting a natural resource, there’s an angler practicing catch-and-release.
- For every flash flood in a cave, entrapping children, there are divers donning their gear, risking all.
- For every soundbite polarizing a nation, there’s a volunteer translating for detainees at the border.
I think of murderous Saul, in Damascus: blind, fearful, huddled in darkness. Enter Ananias, carrying out his work as messenger. He lays his hands over Saul’s eyes.
“Immediately, something like scales fell from Saul’s eyes, and he could see again.”
What can you add to augment our hope?
For every ________________, there’s a ____________________.
You might also enjoy “Catch and Release”
