From father Abraham’s sons two nations were formed, their desert paths diverging.
Centuries later men die fueled by their self righteous anger toward the other.
Deep inside the earth, cradled within the stone walls of this cave where the Prophet Abraham was born I join with women who come to pray.
In this holy sanctuary mothers whisper to God their sufferings, crying for loss of the ones they loved.
With dignity and grace each woman’s private conversation resonates through their bodies; arched in agony, raised in reverence, kneeling with humility.
I am awed by their devotion and the need to reach out to God.
The closeness in this crowded womb defies the divisions of our politics.
Silently I pray that people put down their weapons and raise their conscience from hatred and separation to create a path that meets in Peace.
