Sunday, March 3, 2013
There are drummers and politicians and the odd people who are really into retro automobiles. There are choirs and brass bands and battalions of people riding horses. There are real estate agents and clowns, schoolteachers and Republicans. And they go marching by us while children laugh and I weep.
The kids never understand why I am crying. The Parade seems like a party to them, and when I try to explain that the party is an explosion of Love that has its roots in hate, I only confuse them more, so together we just stand on the sidelines, laughing and crying, watching the ecstatic Parade.
I think I cry because it strikes me as Sacred, all those people going by. People who decided simply to live their own Truth, even when doing so was not that simple. Each one of them had the Courage to say,
This is who I am even if you will crucify me for it.
Just like Jesus did.
3 March, 2013