Black lives matter.
Those who live in the shadows
Of other lives in the light,
You who toil in the fields and factories,
You who raise the children,
You who lift up the vulnerable,
You who wear the weight of superior egos,
You who give your last breath,
Essential workers of the heart,
Blessed are you.
Your light shines for all
In both the shadow and the light.
All black lives matter.
It is summer 2020, or is it? Jesus of Nazareth of 2000 years ago stands front and center. His biblical words spiritually flow thru this urban street scene of peaceful protest: “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.” A shaken but resolute black man, wearing an “I can’t breathe” mask, holds his savior’s left arm; A young white woman holds her savior’s right, equally led in a moral courage to see for those less fortunate than her a better world down the road. “I have a voice,” the little but strong black girl says to us, while the tall self-assured young white man, clad in an ever-softening pink polo, lends his sensitive side to the man who can’t breathe. In front of Jesus are the innocent children. Almost in a blessing, our savior touches the little black boy’s head, a mind yet barely exposed to the need for “my life matters” signs. Holding her “Black Lives Matter” sign, the little white girl subtly smiles at her friend, content in her childlike comprehension that she can make a difference in his life. All of these front row protestors are society’s best: “Blessed are the pure of heart, for they will see God.”
Up the road, the painting continues with the message. “Racism is the pandemic,” notes the masked brown skinned woman with headscarf. We detect mixed race vibes in the white-haired man and the young girl on her father’s shoulder. Echoing the girl’s demeanor is another older fraternal sister also with arm raised. All generations are involved. In this surrealistic depiction, the spiritual presence of other