A new year

Poetry inspires me to think further, deeper; to find words for the feelings that arise. The poem below posed a challenge to myself at the start of the year: what makes "my words turn into sparks"? For me there is no easy answer. (It seems there never is no matter how hard we try to pretend. And that makes life so interesting.) But when I look at the times when I have stood up and surprised by the sparks that were coming out of my mouth, it often was related to human dignity. I am still pondering, though...

The Birthday of the World

(Marge Piercy)

On the birthday of the world

I begin to contemplate

what I have done and left

undone, but this year

not so much rebuilding

of my perennially damaged

psyche, shoring up eroding

friendships, digging out

stumps of old resentments

that refuse to rot on their own.

No, this year I want to call

myself to task for what

I have done and not done

for peace. How much have

I dared in opposition?

How much have I put

on the line for freedom?

For mine and others?

As these freedoms are pared,

sliced and diced, where

have I spoken out? Who

have I tried to move? In

this holy season, I stand

self-convicted of sloth

in a time when lies choke

the mind and rhetoric

bends reason to slithering

choking pythons. Here

I stand before the gates

opening, the fire dazzling

my eyes, and as I approach

what judges me, I judge

myself. Give me weapons

of minute destruction. Let

my words turn into sparks.