Be Safe

I tell you to “Be Safe.”

You hate it.

Safe is what you don’t want to be. “Safe is the enemy” of adventure. “Safe” is the last thing you want.

When I tell you “be safe,” your hackles go up.

You’re never going to “be safe,” are you?

I tell you to “Be Safe.”

but I’m not talking to you.

I’m telling the world, “watch over this one.” Don’t throw tragedy in his path, let him come home today.

What would happen if I didn’t say it?

I tell you to “Be Safe”

because we know — you’re not.

Across the country, around the world, goodbyes are hugged and “Be Safe” is said, and for some — it will be the last. I’m scared, and all I can do is

tell you to “Be Safe”

it’s my agnostic prayer.

Saying those words make me feel safe.

What more can we do?

Lead image: Safe, from Boston Public Library, via Rob Pongsajapan on Flickr