After Thich Nhat Hanh's "Call Me By My True Names"
and Maya Angelou's "On the Pulse of Morning"
I am an abolishionist, my heart quickened
By visions of justice and kindness
And a purposeful beloved community.
The Spirit beckons from a future of possibilities.
Among these pilgrims, voices heavy with history,
I am an investor from Boston, a slavetrader from Rhode Island
And I am acquiescent and comfortable,
Unwilling to wander off the well-traveled path of privilege.
The Spirit summons me now--from this bewildering crossroads.
Among these pilgrims, aching with unmanageable hope
Pummeled by the bruising paradox of conscience,
I am one with a circle that turns, turns, turns
Around an exasperating and eternal axis of ambiguity, nuance.
And I turn with them all toward grace, toward being, toward home.
Maya said to North and South, to the whole of us:
"History despite its wrenching pain cannot be unlived,
But if faced with courage need not be lived again..."
And among these pilgrims, I can choose again
To believe that she was right.
DGJ
Montgomery, AL
October 13, 2022
Notes: I'm struck this week by an awareness of both complicity and courage--in me, to be sure, but in every one of us. This is the gift of Thich Nhat Hanh's poem (and his practice over many years and generations). We house within both the decency of our aspirations and the depravity of our ancestors, both the abolitionist dedicated to ending enslavement (and mass incarceration) and the trader who profits off the enterprise itself. Only when I bring compassion to that contradiction, and to yours, and to ours--do I become capable of truthtellling and repentance, imagination and discipleship. (DGJ 10/13)
 |
| Statue of Rosa Parks, at the site of her bus stop, Montgomery, AL |
