Crossing the river

I am standing on one side of the river. You are on the other. Between us the water flows freely yet, also, between us lies a sea of differences and disappointments. Behind us, backing both the free flowing water and the sea of separation, are mountains that have stood for eons of time. They have seen war and peace. Yet still they stand.

Over time these mountains and rivers have heard the soft summer breeze as well as withstanding the turbulent, rushing waters of storms and floods, the ice floes of winter.

Still they hold their foundations.

At the joining point.

You and I are not quite so sturdy.

So I turn toward you, once more, in my sorrow, with tears in my eyes, but hope in my heart, imploring us once more to reach out for one another.

What will it take for us to cross the rivers that separate us now?

The essence of me is in you.  The essence of you is in me; the bright light of our humanness.

What will it take that we may seek to embrace this light in one another? Perhaps to come round next year, at this time; the next time Memorial Day, to steps taken toward one another, even baby ones, rather than being farther apart?

We are called at this time to remember our losses of wars, past and present.

What will it take for there to be war no more?

I am not enough of anything to effect major changes, even in the tides, by myself.

So I ask of you, what will it take for us to, at least, turn toward one another rather than pull back and cut off?

I pledge to do my part.