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Greed

–Pamela Cochran

I would never have believed that I’d awake one day in a lonely cell, having stripped myself of everything precious that I’d always taken for granted by shaking a fist at my creator for ending the suffering of my beloved in a way other than I’d imagined while on my knees; awaiting transport to a place no one belongs, except to the state, whose main concern is the bottom line; bodies for which they receive top dollar, but never humans, never souls, never mothers whose lives have been nothing more than a series of tragic events, and are now doomed to walk this journey through the wilderness with no prophet to lead, no cloud by day or fire by night to prevent the aimless wander of the hopelessly exhausted, desperate to be anywhere but here; or destined— and placed, precisely on this map, at this point— a testament that it doesn’t have to end here, that life’s treasure chest of grace, hope, and redemption can be uncovered if we don’t stop digging.

Photo by Chris Yang on Unsplash