Trails of the Commonplace Prophet

I’ve almost had it with this life.
Lord, keep me going,
Because I don’t know what else will.

She said, “things were never meant to be this way.”
And I said, “what do you mean?”
But she didn’t know,
And nor do I.

On a bright morning, after we’d fought harshly, and a week after the December 26, 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami, I walked past a man I thought to be homeless in a nearly empty parking lot.
“You call that a tsunami—that was nothing but a wake,” he blurted, as we passed.
Initially, because of my troubled state, I thought he was talking about she and I, and I was stunned. I took a few steps and then looked back, but he was gone. That moment has lingered with me like a bad memory or a powerful dream.
I can’t make any sense out of his message intended for my ear.

The strangest messages can come from strangers strangled by truth.