When Reflection Goes Wrong

My quiet life stands still.
Still atop a hill with a mountainous view.
What a quiet life
Riddled with periods of torment,
Stippled with the sounds of someone's flip flops on the sidewalk.
My time to reflect is over, has been over
Yet I hold so convincingly this quiet, still life.
The pace is too slow.
If I am to heal as healing is supposed to be, then I need to quicken the space between accomplishments.
The time for reflection is long since past.
Reflection no longer consoles, it only reminds.
I am ready for the world once again.
I am ready to prepare for the next tragedy, with hopes that I will be better prepared this time than I was the last.