Words about war, justice, humanity, understanding and…the weather

As I write this, there’s thunder in the air and it rains softly. The sky is dark grey packed with layers of clouds. The sun doesn’t feel like coming out of bed today. I have waited for this day for so long now. The light sea breeze cools off the air right now and I just love it! And how I missed the rain!

Doors open, the rumbling sound of thunder in the air, a sleeping cat on the chair next to me and my cup of coffee within reach. The air smells so fresh and pure and to stand outside in the rain soaking up this refreshed air is all I need right now. The best thing of a life close the sea is you see bad weather coming from miles ahead. It’s spectacular to watch the shift in colors of the sky and the sea, to notice the dramatic clouds coming closer and closer. I don’t think the clouds will open up today, but that’s just perfect right now.

By coincidence I came across this amazingly beautiful and thought-provoking speech on ted.com this morning: A young poet tells the story of Darfur.

It’s about the genocide fifteen years ago that took place during the civil war in Sudan that she was able to escape from.

“I wrote poetry to convince people to hear and see us,” Emtithal Mahmoud says.

How she uses poetry to heal her trauma and asks all by-standers “Will you witness me?” I would like to share here with you on this Friday afternoon.

It’s something we can learn from. It speaks to our humanity and her appeal today is very much alive. Stories like these need to be shared widely. Her words should be written on the front-page of every newspaper, broadcasted on television and shared on every webpage you can imagine!

The world needs the poets, artists, musicians, painters, writers and photographers to help us witnessing and understanding the suffering in the world. Especially the pain of “forgotten people in forgotten places”.

Eventually I was wrong about the sleeping sun. It looks like the clouds slowly break open. The sun awakens and the rain has already evaporated. After all, it’s still Ibiza. September has arrived, but summer will stick around for a while.

Con Amor,

Eva