I Feel a Need to Cry

 

In August 1945, I was doing Civilian Service high in the California Sierras.  When news of the war’s end reached us, I celebrated.  Then I learned about the big bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and I had second thoughts.

Through the years, those second thoughts increased. 

 

In 1982, I attended a Nuclear Disarmament conference in Tokyo, Japan, where 500 persons representing 60 different countries and all the world’s religions came together to discuss the challenge of ridding the world of nuclear weapons.  Many of us went on to Hiroshima, where we met with some Hibakusha and visited the MemorialMuseum.  In walking through the museum, I felt the need to cry. I need to cry, or my soul will die.   

 

Flash forward to Thursday, May 6, 2010.  A group of 80 Japanese from the Genusikyo Delegation comes to Las Vegas following their trip to the Nuclear Nonproliferation Treaty Review Conference at the United Nations.  After a reception and tour of the AtomicMuseum on Wednesday, they join our weekly peace vigil at the FederalBuilding on

Las Vegas Boulevard

.  What a beautiful sight!  Gentle passionate people.  Signs and banners:  “No more Hiroshima” “Toward a nuclear weapons-free world” “No more war.” A powerful witness! 

 

We board two busses for a trip to the Test Site.  Chief Johnny Bob and a group of young people from the Western Shoshone nation meet us at the gate and welcome us to their land, illegally occupied by the U.S. government and desecrated by the explosion of more than 900 nuclear bombs.  Chief Johnny leads us all in a sacred ritual cleansing the earth, the air, the water, and refreshing our spirits. 

 

After a lunch and visit at the Goddess Temple, we return to Las Vegas and bid farewell to our guests They leave us with many gifts—beautiful arts and crafts of all kinds.  And for me, the greatest gift is their passion for peace.  Again, I feel the need to cry.  But this time, it is tears of joy.  Tears of joy for the amazing grace of the faith and hope and love which these friends give to me.

 

                   

                     Hiroshima

Night comes early in Hiroshima, fiercely early.

There is no time, no time.

 

Fathers there is no time for holding children.

Mothers there is no time for nursing young.

Lovers there is no time for embracing love.

Builders there is no time for building bridges.

Priests there is no time for praying prayers.

Citizens there is no time for saying no to generals.

There is no time, no time.

 

Dawn comes slowly from Hiroshima, gently slowly.

There is still time, still time.

Fathers there is still time for holding children.

Mothers there is still time for nursing young.

Lovers there is still time for embracing love.

Builders there is still time for building bridges.

Priests there is still time for praying prayers.

Citizens there is still time for saying no to generals.

There is still time, still time.

 

Dawn comes slowly from Hiroshima, gently slowly.

There is still time, still time.