Somewhere in the world a volcano has erupted. Magma turns to lava as it spills from the crater, pouring down the sides and over everything. It is warm, destructive, harsh and uncaring. Ash spews forth, filling the skies, becoming obvious.
I want to tell the volcano, “People’s lives are going on around you. The world is not yours run or ruin. You were silent so long. Couldn’t you have kept your mouth shut, even another week?”