what if the the days
called us to
speak to the strangers
seek them out
they who have much
to share of the dark and day
whose names are conversations
whose hellos are history
when the voiceover
called us to
speak to the strangers
seek them out
they who have much
to share of the dark and day
whose names are conversations
whose hellos are history
when the voiceover
of memory
is the scream of a dark dagger
but sometimes lilts to tomorrow
saying me saying me
saving me saving me
for it may be as hard to get into a world
as it is to get out of it
I too was a stranger once
how strange that was
let it be
let me be
but sometimes lilts to tomorrow
saying me saying me
saving me saving me
for it may be as hard to get into a world
as it is to get out of it
I too was a stranger once
how strange that was
let it be
let me be
______
Pic: In the woods out front in the evening light. I've been thinking a lot about the way refugees are being described in this moment--partly because we used to live in Yellow Springs (Big A's old hometown), which is close to Springfield, OH... in fact, Big A was born in a Springfield hospital! Also, Haiti itself is both inspiring as the first country to win independence from slavery, but tragic for the way France has tethered it to poverty in retaliation. And I love the stoics and more recently, Martha Nussbaum's interpretation of cosmopolitanism as "bringing the stranger in." I would find it wonderful to live in a world where there were no "strangers."
4 comments:
Nice
It's a beautiful idea, Maya, and a beautiful poem!
Thank you!
Thanks so much, Jenny!
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