I am writing again (thank you, www.Patheos.com, for helping me find the discipline to do so regularly) which means I am reading again. I saw this from SAWNET.org:Read more Entry>>
And in reading again, I turned to SAWNET's bookshelf and found this.
For our Sisterhood.
by Uma Parameswaran
The slash of a wrist in a quiet house
on a quiet street in D.C.
sent Arctic chills down spines across the world,
and we, islands in cyberspace,
tried blindly to read the words undulating on the screen
like shimmering sand against Monsoon gold;
tried numbly to stroke away our pain alone,
tried mutely to voice our dismay at the act of one of our own.
We, womanmotherpoet, raised our hands in unknowing grief,
asking Why, why, why?
And the answer came slashing across the sky.
She sat at our table, yet we did not see the eyes
behind the bright eyes looking at tomorrows.
She knocked on our door, but we did not hear the words
behind the words that asked us for a Book.
We felt the vibes she sent us over wires
of her fears she'd hurt herself,
and we did not act,
but she did.
Though schooled early in the alphabet of despair,
Could not decode in time the words slashed across the sky,
could not hear in time the voice that cried in our own voice.
And as the red flame spurted down our path,
We, transfixed islands in cyberspace,
stretched our hands in rage, in guilt, in grief,
and as we stretched we felt other hands in our own,
likewise stretched in unknowing grief, unknowing guilt,
and we knew we were not alone.
Oh my sisters, my loves,
As we circle the flame the Muses have taken to themselves,
Let us pray they grant us the courage, if our time should come,
to let go of our woman strength, our mother love,
our poet pride of honeyed nuances that drop silent into flowers
so subtly no one else can see, hear, feel their awe-ful urgency.
The courage to let go of all and scream loud and clear
HELP ME! NOW!
July 24, 2003
A Life of thinking globally, acting locally, and seeking peace internally.