I wrote this lament after Pulse. This morning, I feel all I have is lament. I’ve added to it… I hate that I will again.   Emile

Where shall we find sanctuary from the weapons of war,
shelter from extremism and hate,
and refuge from humanity’s inhumanity?

Where shall we find sanctuary at school,
in church, at theater,
or where we dance?
Where shall we find shelter on a baseball diamond or a concert field?
Where may walkers walk in peace?
Where shall we find sanctuary at work and at play?

Where may my black brother walk down the street without fear?
Where may my gay sister know that none revile her?
Where shall my children drill only for fire
and not the depravity of man?

Where shall our children gather?
Must we see every open space as danger?
Must we suspect every stranger?
Must we resign ourselves to hopelessness?
Can nothing really be done? Really?
Where shall we find sanctuary?

Where shall a call to prayer be answered only in love?
Where shall a Good Book be searched for words of peace?
Where shall a prophet speak only for hope?

Where shall we find sanctuary, O Lord?
Where if not here?