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Monday, October 4, 2010

Hiroshima 1989: Collective Pool of Feelings

Intimacy begins with acknowledging curiosity 
about someone other than your self.
She walks to me a stranger with intent to connect,
she never takes her eyes off mine for one second.
There is so much depth in her eyes, 
I can see thousands in life and death,
all the souls in her heart, 
all whom she met in her life –
the totality of her experience 
surrounds us in this moment.

Hiroshima blinks her eyes 
and tightens her grasp of my hand,
my throat tightens its grip on my breath 
and the blood flow to my heart.
Moved, I kiss her hand 
so she knows I know 
the hopes of a woman –
that love and connection are never too late
when expressed honestly with trust from the heart.

People walk by embarrassed 
from the display of open raw human emotion.
I understand the looks on their faces, 
but not their words, spoken in a foreign tongue.
I am embarrassed 
to let go of her sage hands in her time of need –
to seemly reject her outreach for connection.
She created the emotional strength 
to move from her comfort zone,
to stretch out her elderly boundaries 
and break her aged limitations.
I decide to meet her challenge 
to create emotional strength,
to match her feelings, 
stretch mySelf 
and freely return what she freely gifts me.

We both know it is time to be more 
than we are separately,
so I gently grasp her hands tighter 
to unite our vision to connect.
Now I am the age she would have been during the destruction,
later I will be the age she currently is consecrating -
renewed by our combined strength of purpose, 
I pledge to carry 
the force of her stream of life forward, 
to flow forever.

A tear falls 
as graceful 
as an individual snowflake glides
to meet and blend 
with all the other snowflakes 
on the mountaintop.
I relax my hold of her hand 
as an expression of my individual snowflake
since not a single tear falls from my eyes 
to blend with her already fallen snow.

Hiroshima rains down tears, 
for me to share, 
as I stand under her umbrella of hope.
She came to me with grasped hands, 
then she unclasped her hands 
only to grasp mine.
She spoke to me in Japanese, 
a language I do not understand – 
but to remember her being, 
here, now, then and thereafter,
she shared her soulful eternity 
in Emotion a language I do understand.

This saged lady 
crying in front of me 
grows older
with each moment passing 
bringing yet another tear.
She will die soon 
and take with her the events –
her events she personally witnessed, 
not recorded in any history books -
too personal to be etched on paper history,
her testament of sleepless nights and legacies 
vivid with emotion pass with her.

We lose something every time someone dies on this planet,
we lose a little bit of emotion from the collective pool of feelings.

~ Other people's Fingerprints ~
In 1994 after he won the Noble Peace prize Yitzhak Rabin said:
“Whose mother will soon be mourning?
Whose world will crumble under the weight of the loss?…”



Addis Ababa, Ethiopia January 2006  Epiphany Riots