Sanctuary is a place where we feel alone.
Sanctuary is a place where we feel comfort.
Sanctuary is that place we go back to feeling protected.
Our lights blind the darkness, our electronic moats forbid those who would plunder our worldly goods so long strived and collected; we cuddle into the familiar of our sanctuary.
If it is a shack or a slice of cardboard under a bridge or a swat of sand on the beach of some unfamiliar shore, it becomes a haven, a place to return and feel safe.
The sense of invasion creates a threat upon human sanctity, the utmost stress, and an attack on life’s basic need for shelter.
So I wait another day until they come.
Perhaps run away when they arrive in their white suits, avoiding the noise and clatter, but knowing they are attacking my sanctuary.
With little control I can only wait in fear of the unknown.
For this is all I have left.
This is all have.