Below are some reflections from time spent by Mother River's side today after an Interfaith service. I offer them both in Peace and Love, and in honor of those lost 10 years ago today and for those who yet grieve.
The vulture soars over the treetops,
his shadow skimming them in an endless game of tag
the trees can never win.
That is what I saw as I sat by the river this afternoon. His flight made me take note of the sky. It was searingly blue, in a way that reminded me of another September day. I couldn’t believe the sky dared be so blue that day. It belied the mood, the collective shock and grief. Surely a sky like that could only reflect a day flowing with joy, not tears. Maybe it was the purity of the tears that intensified the blue. A purity sprung from hearts torn wide open. From all walks of life, from all races, all nations, they grieved as one, under that achingly blue sky. Perhaps it did reflect the day after all.
Today the ache is more distant, the blue less offensive to my senses. Many of the hearts torn wide have found a path of healing. And many, for the good of us all, have remained open. If there can be gratitude for the aftermath of that day, mine would be for those hearts that were courageous enough to grieve, heal and remain open. For each open heart is a doorway through which love can freely pass.
Thank you for the gift of your courage to love.