In this moment, perhaps grief is all we can share — silence–a mourning beyond sound and words. Perhaps our tears flow into one cleansing stream as musicians channel our deepening despair. Or we yield to the angelic voices singing our loss and longing. Or maybe we are united in our wailing and sobs and screams. Or we gather side by side, hold each other close or we are held tenderly by others as we collapse.
Will we paint our unspeakable emotions, surrender to the rhythm of drums, let the body express what we cannot? Shall we sit together quietly to breathe as one body? Shall we all pray that we find our way back to Love?
Perhaps then, our hearts will start to beat again, revive our connection to Life and each other. Maybe we will be able to desire for others what we want for ourselves. Maybe we realize that all the children are as precious as our own. We remember our responsibility to care for them all because all the children are closest to God. Maybe then, we will be able listen and reflect; perhaps then, we chart a new course of healing, repair and true love. Maybe then our children’s children will live free from war and hate.
If we break the cycle and bequeath them the gift of Peace, maybe then our grief will not be in vain.
