I have, today, wanted to take the sky in my arms to comfort her. For the last week she has worn widow’s weaves, shedding them only briefly, as if for a shower...or simply to change from one set of garments to another. I have wanted to reach out, assure her that all is okay, and remove the darkness from her soul. It seems wrong, the constant gray, like clothes on a Venus di Milo, or a blanket over a flowerbed on a hot summer’s day.
The sky has wept over the week; today more than others. Is a memory of a hurt 50 years ago? Is it a wrong more recent? Or are they tears of anguish of times to come? Or are they tears of joy, for a love with whom she was reunited, or a parent whose suffering has ended?
Her tears perform tasks, however. They replenish the lakes and rivers. They give plants a drink, and allow the same plants to get food more easily. They flatten hillsides, filling holes, settling dust and dirt, washing the world. Maybe the sky merely needs to wash her garments for the next fashion show. I am incapable of comprehending the majesty and reason behind the rain.
Are we like the sky in this manner? Do our tears cleanse or our souls, wash the wounds, heal the hurt?
Have we taken someone in our arms, saying nothing, just being a comforting presence in a time of sorrow? Or have we ignored hurt and pain, like the priests of the story of the good Samaritan? Have we passed by on the other side of the road to avoid hurt and pain, keeping to ourselves, instead of offering our own assistance, even at great cost?
We cannot change what we have done in the past in such a matter. But we can learn compassion. Or we can be the vulture who feeds on the remains of hurt and misdeed. The choice is ours. The reward is eternity. We may not see it today—but if we don’t see it, does that mean it isn’t real? Or does it mean that we are simply blind, waiting for our eyes to be opened by the compassionate man who happens by? Or will we call out, only to be ignored?
No, this isn’t the law of the jungle. It is the law of love.