Letter to Iraq
This morning, I dreamed that I was an Iraqi grandfather sipping my morning coffee and puzzling over the two dreams that came to me before the morning traffic awoke me.
In the first dream, I saw myself floating over the ancient land between the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers - Sumer and Akkad. In the time before Judaism, Islam, Christianity. The times of Gilgamesh, Sargon, when writing was developed, when the beginning stories were begun and before they were woven into the dreams of the sons and daughters of Abraham. Then floating over the court of Hammurabi, I saw mathematics being developed, records of trade, treaties being written down and the world's first laws based on the beliefs of Ur people that justice, mercy and humility held people together in peace.
I dreamed that all of Iraq's children dreamed that same dream with me and understood how great they had been and how great had their gifts been to humanity.
Then, I dreamed that the old trickster - Enki - is whispering in the shadows to two who claim to be friends of Iraq: Tell each one of these silly people that the other is a trap or a snare and that to escape, he must chew off his leg to be free and able to destroy the trap. Then when they have devoured each other and just one is left standing, you may easily divide their land among you and make their children and women your slaves.
Then I cried into my coffee, my tears made it even more bitter. I looked to heaven and wondered which dream would be Iraq's future - It's honorable and seed planting past, or a trickster's lies and plots?
Then I woke up - back in the USA - listening to American morning news experts claiming like Enki, they knew what was best for Iraq, The USA and the world.
And I hoped that my dream of Sumner, Ur, Akkad, and Hammurabi was dreaming itself again in the hearts of those who really hold the future of Iraq in their hands - the Iraqi's.
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