I take a walk around the block early each morning, breathing in the fresh air of a new day and seeing the beauty of the roses, irises, and peonies lovingly planted and tended by my near neighbors, most of whom I have never met, yet with whom I share an intimacy through their flowers. This morning, American Memorial Day, I happened upon the scene pictured here, of a ripped American flag hanging from a tree. I do not know whether this ripped flag was intentionally hung this morning or whether it was damaged in a recent storm. What I do know is that it is a powerful symbol of our ripped America...our beautiful, ripped America, where young immigrant children are being ripped from their parents' arms when arriving at the border requesting asylum, where black and brown young people are ripped from their families and placed in prison for "crimes" for which white people are not punished, where our Mother Earth is being ripped open to support the greed of the fossil fuel economy that is bringing us to the brink of a life-threatening and irreversible warming of the planet. Today is a day for grieving for America's fallen soldiers and for America's brokenness and injustice, for breathing into and honoring the ripped places in our own hearts.