In the darkest hours as we slept the Russian troops attacked the Ukraine. There is no time for LittleMe or ROCK. It’s not about them now; it’s about the people in peril, the ones stuck in bumper to bumper traffic trying to flee from Kiev. The men in power with suits and ties are saluting themselves with powerful words slinging back and forth like bullies on a playground. As families embrace their fears, and the sick, poor and invalids have nowhere to flee the missiles fire. I am aware that the skies are foggy and the rush of rain that splatters against the windshield is from the tears of stars, the same one’s that were shining as we all were dreaming. The beacons of light were witness to the early morning rampage; they could not have stopped this and are crying and know people are on their knees praying, looking up at them,wondering if God exists and they hear the desperate call out for a sign of hope. We are driving toward the Baltic Sea now and there is a sense of sorrow in the air. An unsettling quiet looms over us as we know that children are comforted by mother’s and father’s who are meeting the eyes of strangers as they take shelter in subway tunnels and know that without a doubt they can do absolutely nothing but hope that someone, somehow, will end this peacefully. Updates remind us we are all pawns in the hands of our individual governments and despite the protests and mayhem we keep our doors open for resolution.