Memorial

I sat on the sun-warmed beach, white pristine sand, the blood stains gone. The sea stretched to the horizon, calm and clear, its water soft and transparent like liquid glass. Saipan. Pacific Arena. WWII So many died here where I sat next to young Japanese tourists. Not so many decades ago we would have been killing each other. War. How many have died protecting our liberties? I stood in front of our town’s war memorial, a large grey rock, numbering the injured and killed. Thousands of lives given so we could enjoy “life, liberty and justice for all.” Speak out. For yourself. For those who have already been silenced. Talk with the enemy.

This Morning I Pray for My Enemies

And whom do I call my enemy?
An enemy must be worthy of engagement.
I turn in the direction of the sun and keep walking.
It’s the heart that asks the question, not my furious mind.
The heart is the smaller cousin of the sun.
It sees and knows everything.
It hears the gnashing even as it hears the blessing.
The door to the mind should only open from the heart.
An enemy who gets in, risks the danger of becoming a friend.

By Joy Harjo
From Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings, W.W. Norton & Company

Photo: Nancy Bo Flood