3Wednes(Witness)days in January

On Wednesday
I watched the broadcast State of the Union
As Barack Obama spoke
I watched the cold, unchanging
restless eyes of killers: Joint Chiefs of Staff
and thought, “these too are the eyes of
Barack’s vaunted ’10,000 Americans’
now in Ayiti”
This nation responds first
as always
with armed men
He didn’t mention
that those 10,000
are Marines
with 10,000
warm guns
or that Marines
are not made
to rebuild but
to destroy
Yet we are expected
to be gracious
and grateful
as they commandeer our airport
turning back any aid they don’t control
turning back our Carib sisters and brothers
who ask only that we be allowed to speak for ourselves
as they extract their own citizens, foreign nationals, and then
the elite
[as they plan new loans and “forgive”(acknowledge?) no debt]
as they label us looters like our cousins in New Orleans
as they close off Site Soley and Site de Dye
and ignore Jakmel, Leyogan, Jeremi
We are cast once more as beggars before the World
But look again, faith is there
look again, hope is there
look again, love is there
among strangers and friends and Ayisyen yo
coming home
making way from no way
Look around, love is here
among strangers and friends and Ayisyen yo
making home
way from no way
chanjman nou kap kwe
chanjman nou bezwen

Last Wednesday I listened as Gina Ulysse sang
“We’re a storm/ we’re a storm/
We are thunder/ we are lightning/
…We are the ones who’ve been called/
the world needs changing”
These things I feel as true
And so we need stillness
For how can one know a storm
without understanding calm
before and during?
Or even……
an earthquake?
How can many survive?
How strong can we be if we cannot hold each other?
How much courage can we have if we cannot allow ourselves
to be held?
into Earth
into each other
Feel the essence
of spiritual innamence
Love each other
See each other
Act as family
in self-defense

The Wednesday before
I wept
The Wednesday before
we wept
The Wednesday before
perhaps you also wept
at the emergent sight, sound, and thought
of Ayiti demanbre
a dismembered nation
geopsychic echo of Atlantic cataclysm
past and present
But I remembered
I re-membered
that it is for us
se pou nou
to nurture the seed
born from catastrophe
so that after mourning
there can be morning
so that after mourning
there can be morning

My mother tells me
“Touch the Sun”
Good Morning

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