what are we given…

what are we given to see us through this, childhood stories of the travelers each with a talent, one can swallow the ocean, another can grow his neck to any length and will never drown, what else did jeopardy require? eyes to see around the world and back again, a breath that could blow a hurricane. Our stories are not so expedient. Our talents are seldom miraculous. Disaster seldom coincides with the gift, the solution inherent in our non-existent skills. Too often we watch it all go down. Too often we could not imagine what could have prevented, what could have stopped, what could have corrected, what could have repaired the damage as the disaster unfolds its history in our life as if that story had found us for its pages