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
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