“Need help carrying groceries?” a young man calls from across the street. Wednesday evening and our trash cans are at the curb ready for weekly pickup. Our next-door neighbor moved them before he tended to his own.
I smile at gifts surrounding my husband and me, at the brown, black, and white faces that reveal hearts exploding with care.
Garbage exists inside and outside the population. Love moves it along.
There are two days in the year that we can not do anything, yesterday and tomorrow . Mahatma Gandhi
After the Bomb Blast Where is the cameraman’s face, as he zooms in on the hungry bleeding child? Is the small boy frightened of a creature carrying a camera? Does that person bring bread and bandages?
Then the camera moves to the next atrocity and delivers sensationalist stories for the 6 o’clock news?
On the other side of the screen viewers chew carryout pizza and wait for the next commercial to get more beer from the refrigerator.
Where is the cameraman’s face? A minute-long film can’t tell the full story. Somehow, may the captured moment ignite help and not more hunger and pain.
“They say that ‘Guns don’t kill people, people kill people.’ Well, I think the gun helps. If you just stood there and yelled BANG, I don’t think you’d kill too many people.”
I pull my hearing aids out of my ears. It doesn’t help. Someone on the TV in the living room must be ready to pull out a gun. The conversational tone screams it. I fill in the script. “You stepped on my toe. And I’m gonna kill you for it.”
Okay. I admit it. I’m a peace monger at heart. Worse. One who drinks iced tea and hasn’t had a beer in thirty years.
Yes. I am certain there is a plot somewhere in the black-and-white episode one room away from me. Perhaps it is worth the gunpowder to follow it. The dead actors could get up after the script and appear in another episode. Or at least they could during the 1950s when the film was created.
Another gun blast. “Do you hear me, Marshall?”
Ignore it, Terry. Pay attention to your world. Breathe… Now breathe again. Get it out of your system and move on. Murder never solved any genuine problem. Life doesn’t come with a script.
“We make a lot of detours, but we're always heading for the same destination” ― Paulo Coelho
Lost—Again
The directional app on my phone remains mute, while the road twists and my mind twists with it into lost places I’ve been.
Memories explode bully-style inside my brain synapses, creating panic. No sound, but an arrow on my screen says turn left at the next corner. I remember
the shop with the worn yellow sign. And space in my head and heart opens. I know to move through uncertainty. Celebrate my detours. Consider
the possibility that others hide pain behind strange, sour, surly behavior. May peace be made from pieces, one imperfect turn at a time.
Originally published in For a Better World 2020 reprinted previous blog
Anne Frank’s words: “I don’t think of all the misery, but of all the beauty that still remains.” Her voice was forever silenced. Yet, her heart rings true in this oh-so-similar era.
Hope. Insight. Peace. They grow inside seeds that don’t recognize their worth when planted. Small, invisible in a world where power and greed rule. May buds of integrity bloom, then refuse to die.
“It is important for people to realize that we can make progress against world hunger, that world hunger is not hopeless. The worst enemy is apathy.” – Reverend David Beckmann, president of Alliance to End Hunger.
I was ashamed of myself when I realized life was a costume party and I attended with my real face. (Franz Kafka)WE CALL IT VISION
Sometimes poetry speaks truth better than lines of fact. I don’t have many syllables to share today. One haiku contains lines containing 5, 7, 5 syllables, and one tanka delivers spaces of 5, 7, 5, 7, 7 syllables. Peace to all.
DURING A BLACK-AND-WHITE TV SCENE
” I don’t see color,”
says a white man to lynching
as he leaves the scene.
COMMUNITY
The flower sees bees
coming and opens petals.
Possibilities.
Plant and insect share alike.
Even as the stem stands still.
“It is character that should be the sole measure of judgement in the society of thinking humanity, and nothing short of that would do.”
― Abhijit Naskar, We Are All Black: A Treatise on Racism
CONTRAST
The news broadcasts the story in an infinite loop.
Nine people killed, one an unborn baby.
Boy or girl, identity as unknown
as the reason for the bullets that stopped them.
I listen to commentary
about hate and racism while a winter-pale
goldfinch travels from tree to wire, a place where robins perch. The wire is long with plenty of room.
Perhaps, there is no genuine connection.
Only a brief metaphor. And yet
I wonder if change can begin
with subtle movements toward peace.
bird illustration made from public domain photo, colored pencil, and chalk
An eye for an eye will only make the whole world blind.
― Mahatma Gandhi
Men willing to break their own arms
rather than race into fire and death,
war games played without winners.
The news spreads in endless loops
on screens with color but no dimension
while some watchers gasp, yet
others pass a bowl of snacks,
grateful the pain strikes in another
language, continent, time zone.
Human beings willing to reach
beyond a huff or pant. One country
touching another. One person
letting peace stretch beyond a closed
room. We will not let war
cage the world with hate. Or apathy.
Or depression. It will take time, but,
let us discover peace. Together.
Peace comes from being able to contribute the best that we have, and all that we are, toward creating a world that supports everyone. But it is also securing the space for others to contribute the best that they have and all that they are. (Hafsat Abiola)Peace RecipeSet spirit temperature at warm.
Forgive. Inside and outside
the home receptacle. Sprinkle awareness.
Listen for minor changes and slow cook.
Watch the product, not the clock.
Peace can be both served and recreated
as ingredients intermix.
Add truth and blend it with patience,
an uneven, unpredictable process.
The mixture is as necessary
for an effective final product
as oxygen for breathing.
Water for life.
Allow contents to simmer, open-lidded.
Take care. Hate enters and boils
when placed in a closed pot on high flames.
When the recipe is
denied by someone or something,
begin again. Vent excess heat
in a safe environment.
Practice the recipe and serve daily
without expecting instant satisfaction.
Peace development can take many forms.
It can be the yeast in bread dough
in another family’s house.
Let it rise where it can.
And know you are part of the core
of world change.
published in For A Better World 2022