Crying Out for Peace in the Flower Moon

Peace does not start in perfection. It starts where we are and tells the truth. Even the ugly truth. It acknowledges what is.

Then and only then can we settle into Peace.

It seems that most of the people, many of the plants, and much of the wildlife wandered onto this land.

There is no sovereign right. There is no one who is more deserving than another. All are deserving.

You can’t pursue language and action about plants and fish without making that a de facto acceptable argument. The next thing you know, we’re talking about people and sealing them off from the public in privately funded prisons.

There is only rising up. There is only speaking out. There is only examining the words and the reasoning with which we pursue plant life which invades the way we think about one another. What is the noxious weed here? I think, perhaps, our thinking…

We’re in the Flower Moon, the season when the world carpets herself in beauty.  She doesn’t care much where the flower came from. There’s a whole lot of thinking to be done between here and Peace. There’s a whole lot of Loving to be done as well.

As I write, I carry prayers in my heart for Nepal and for Baltimore, in addition for this awful situation.

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