The Presence of Man (7th Violent Verse of October 2010)

"Too often we honor swagger and bluster and wielders of force; too often we excuse those who are willing to build their own lives on the shattered dreams of others. Some Americans who preach non-violence abroad fail to practice it here at home. Some who accuse others of inciting riots have by their own conduct invited them."  (More...)

Actually there are more ways than one to reach the heart.

One, we’ve made a catchphrase, the stomach. But this is the least of them. The starved still love, still need, still desire affection, a hand unfolded for them to take, an open smile to veil their throbbing like an umbrella on the beach that holds the searing sun at bay.

There are our hands that hold our ache, that grope at serious doubt, that let loose our caged hate like silos of grain. Hands that knowingly embrace friends, that high-five and remember routines formed at youth, our bond with one another, hands reaching for the most in man, his kinship.

Our shoulders and elbows bump one another on the sidewalk of busyness, of rage, love, hate, sorrow, joy and doubt. We move alone between one another like ice and fire, never to know if we belong, if our smiles are meant as banners of peace or signs of our horror, shivering from room to room like children in nightclothes on the eve of All Saints Day.

To reach the heart we must feel all of these things.To reach one another we must remember. We must recall our connection, our beginning, like children coming to us in fear. We must come to one another, congregate with each other like our life depended on it. Love is not a metaphor at our disposal, it’s our promise, our all-in-one, our self-help brochure given to us at birth.

Oh! Let us memorize this! Let our bodies remember that the stomach growls long after we've been fed.

© 2010 by mark prime

علينا أن نحب إخواننا وأخواتنا الله

We must love our brothers and sisters

Seeking Spiritual Wisdom by Kristen Campbell