They stand together
Side by side
The Mother of my People
And “The Mother of the Whole”
They stand together side by side
Eema and Gaia
Joined at the root
Because
“You don’t have to leave your house to join the house of we”
In my temple both are worshiped
In my temple both belong
In my temple both are Goddess
Both are sacred
Both are strong
In my temple
Both are worshiped
In my temple
Both belong
In my temple both are singing
I hear them both in every song:
“Not your people
Not my people
Just our people”
I dream a dream in which a group of individuals from various ethnic and religious backgrounds arrive at the stairway in front of my house. They climb the brick steps and
proceed along the path to the porch where I am sitting. A woman with the group hands me a small piece of paper decorated with symbols, one for each of the great religions. In
addition to the paper she gives me a bright silver pin with which I unintentionally pierce the fingertips of my left hand so that they are knitted together in a tight sort of
cluster. “Ah” says the woman, “you got stuck.” I ask her the name of the group but she doesn’t respond, and soon the woman and her companions depart. I have the sense that
they will proceed from house to house in an effort to enlist as many people as they can in their unnamed cause.
The fingers of the hand knitted together
The small piece of paper in which the symbols are gathered
The table where the Christian sits down with the Jew
Each is another form of the house
A metaphor of relationship
Unity
Love
Each is another form of the Mother
“The enclosing vessel”
The sheltering womb
Each is another form of the Mother
Whose lullaby I hear in the house of my dreams:
“Not your people
Not my people
Just our people”
Daniel David Joseph