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The Salving of Earth's Heart

(These are the words of

My great grandmother,

Feigele Rachel,

Once known as

The Saint of Hester Street

For her hand in

Messages passed

From hert to heart

Across the barrier oceans:

As she might know

You all should know.)

"Time is short, so short that

It soon will end for us,

Lest we take the moment and

Remember who we are

And have been,

Lest we heed the voices

Of our mothers,

Ten thousand years

Of mothers,

Who bore us to this

Place in time,

To Earth's Heart, the

Desert we have made.

It is now that we

Must lay that heart bare,

Open it to every being

Who has wakened in the sweat

Of knowing wrong and rage

At how this pass has come.

Even the very least of us,

Even the greatest of us,

Even the straw in the wind

And the blossom that

Will be the olive.

Earth's Heart must be opened

To each by each,

To the least and greatest,

To the joyous and

The weeping.

For the length of two

Nights journey by the swiftest

Afoot, sunset to sunrise,

In every direction

Earth's Heart shall be returned

To each and every of us,

For we have all been dispossessed:

Mind and soul and the making

Of knowledge into those fruits

We might have the will

Not to wither with our touch.

We shall each bring or send

A handful of fertile soil;

We shall each bring or send

A handful of fresh water;

We shall each bring or send

The teaching of our children,

The knowing that there is but

One us, and every hand lifted

Against any of us is a penstroke

On our decree of condemnation to

An eternal desert.

We will mesh our wills to

Make this place, from the

Nearest to the farthest,

From the lightest to the darkest.

And if the birds return, the

Animals of field and hearth,

The flowers of our history,

The fruits that once nourished us;

If no hand or weapon is raised to

Spill the living blood of

Earth's Heart, of which we

Are each a mote,

Then there will be time

In which forgiveness may

Bloom, and the mothers ranked

Behind us on their bleeding feet

May hold each others' sons to

Hearts that join to make

This place where rest begins.

And if we fail,

So will Earth fail,

And we shall as surely

Perish as the stars die,

Though long before

Our appointed time.

We are but one:

Cast out the names

By which you know the other:

Become yourself,

And take the name

No one speaks:


- David W. Mitchell

"With much appreciation to Summer Breeze for major editorial
and creative contributions to this piece." D.M.


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