"How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace."
–Isaiah 52: 7
Not something separate. Not
a convenient screen, a wall hastily fabricated
to keep a conflict's blaze contained.
Or the self safe.
Nor something hammered out at tables.
And never sentimental, say a moonlit evening,
an incandescent sky. The Pacific Ocean
on a breathless day. You might as well
wage peace as war. You'd have to stand
exposed at the crossroads of unguarded anger,
a presence, not an absence,
not gritting your teeth. Forcing your clenched hands
open. Your heart's hard core
and everything the stubborn mind conceals
you may become disarming,
the terror in your unmasked face
radiant, your unshod, wounded feet beautiful
A duet of cello and birdsong
SAND guest speaker with a taste of Sufi Whirling
a masterpiece album from Pulitzer Prize winning musician dealing with intergenerational trauma
Give yourself permission to rest and receive lullabies for your heart.
"Either way takes courage, either way wants you to be nothing but that self that is no self at all...”
The meaning of death and dying in a death-phobic culture and more on Sounds of SAND Episode 2
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