It makes me bristle with union in the suffering of those in the line of fire in Egypt, elsewhere, and my own local towns, including Flint, Detroit, Harrison Township, Clinton Township, Royal Oak and Ferndale, Michigan to mention only a few.
The religiously-fractured Middle East, and 'burbanites and dwellers in the City of Detroit, for example, may heed and hear , even herald the Irish poet Seamus Heaney's poem on prejudice:
"History says, Don't hope /
On this side of the grave. /
But then, once in a lifetime /
The Longed-for tidal wave /
Of justice can rise up, /
And hope and history rhyme."
In spite of history, one hopes that the horror of bleeding bodies and bloodshed running down like rivers of water in the Arab world, and elsewhere, will be tempered with mercy, moderation and a measure of justice and peace.
The Lion King tale tells of one circle, one globe, one 'hoola-hoop', and, even one table, if you will, of a well, yet wounded world.
Suffering makes me shutter.
I'm old enough to know, however, that one transmits and projects unhealed pain and woundedness on to others what she or he does not heal by the grace of God.
Suffering is loss of the ability to manage or control one's life, one's being, one's community, one's aching tooth, for example.
The world is old enough to know, however, also, that the path of peace alone pokes out from within one's self where serenity and joy, amid suffering, still resides.
No one can rob peace from short of bullets and bombs that are more common these days than blowing one's nose.
Only charity and love will live on long in one's legacy after death.
This Thursday, August 22nd, at 6 pm at 8 Mile/Van Dyke, on Detroit's east side, a parade with a casket to bury segregation forever (and lent to us by Swanson Funeral Home at Mack and E. Grand Blvd., near Belle Isle Park), will lead clergy, among other faithful in an urban/suburban unity walk to release the wounds of our race relations.
Holding on to the wounds without releasing and letting them go will only transmit more of the same in our rapport with one another, or, the lack thereof peace for all people as one nation under God.
This painful trek and journey in time, in Egypt, and elsewhere, will surge on like a river of blood with bleeding hearts unless people of goodwill decide that enough is enough for now and forever.
Like the loving Lion King laying with the gentle lamb.
With each of us living human beings.
That Hebrew Scriptural metaphor told by the ancient and iconic prophets is an aim meriting a few moments in time Thursday, August 22, 2013 at 6 pm.
Walk with me in this moment in time, please.
Pax, pokoj, pacem in terris. . .peace on earth, and, in one's heart.
Let us walk on through the wind and the rain.
Amid the storm, we hold high hope in my heart.
No? Yes? Maybe?
For sure, we can. . .together.
Despite the suffering endured the price of peace poking deep within is worth it.
Healing wounds left unhealed over centuries fester and years for living waters shared by all of creation, lions and lambs alike.
Together we can let peace's path point the way in Detroit, Egypt and elsewhere.