Everywhere there are saints walking
these deaths ask that we see
that we don’t turn away from the people’s pain
that we look into the face of death
that we know our own terror
that we walk with the little kid in New York
that we walk with the little kid somewhere in the Middle East
whose dads maybe went up in the same plane
and ask why the mother in the Middle East works ten hours and gets paid 50 cents a day
and why the mother in New York works eight hours
and gets paid $1000 a day
everywhere there are mothers breastfeeding their babies
in Palestine in Tel Aviv in New York in Kabul in Washington DC
there are fathers and mothers going to work to feed their families
in brand new leather shoes
in old running shoes
in sandals
in jandals
in barefeet
there are children playing outside
in the sun
in the rain
in the snow
in the wind
everywhere there are old people
watching the sky and the earth
looking out for
watching over the people working
and the children playing
everywhere in every tongue
there are people praying for peace
by candlelight
at dusk
in the early dawn light
in the clear light of day
people are praying for a peace to come in our bones
peace we can taste on our tongues
and feel in our hands
a peace that comes from deep within our heart
that washes through us over us all around us like a great tide
peace comes out of pain
it asks that the killings stop everywhere
not just the killing with guns
but the silent killing – death from curable diseases
death from hunger and malnutrition
it asks that all these terrors stop
that all of the killings cease
and that they never take place again
Kathleen Gallagher