Yeah, third post in just a few days, wow. But there’s a really neat poem that I just have to get in here. It was written by Mariangela Gualtieri (Italian?), an accomplished poet I think; and was translated to English… but it sure hasn’t lost much in the translation.
I’m telling you this we needed to stop. We knew. We all felt it that it was too furious, our frenzy. Being inside of things. Outside of our selves. Squeeze every hour – make it yield. We needed to stop and we couldn’t. We needed to do it together. Slow down the race. But we couldn’t. There was no human force that could hold us back. And since this was for all of us a tacit wish like an unconscious will – perhaps our species has obeyed loosened the bonds that protect our seed. Opened the innermost cracks and let it in. Perhaps this is why there was a leap in the species – from the bat to us. Something in us wanted to be opened. Perhaps, I don’t know. Now we are at home. It is extraordinary what is happening. And there is gold, I believe, in this strange time. Perhaps there are gifts. Nuggets of gold for us. If we help one another. There is a very strong call of the species now and as a species we must each see ourselves. A common fate holds us here. We knew it. But not well enough. Either all of us, or no one. The earth is powerful. Truly alive I feel it thinking a thought that we do not know. And with what’s happening now? Let us consider whether the earth is not what’s moving. Whether the law that rules the entire universe, whether what’s happening, I wonder, isn’t the full expression of that law that governs us too – just like every star – every particle of the cosmos. Whether the dark matter was this being bound together in an ardor for life, with the sweep of death that comes to rebalance every species. Keep it within its dimensions, in its place, going in the right direction. It is not us who made heaven. An imposing voice, without words tells us to stay home now, like children who are in trouble and don’t know why, and won’t get kisses, won’t be hugged. Each within a suspension that takes us back, perhaps to the slowness of ancient ancestors, of mothers. Look more at the sky, daub a dead man ochre. Bake bread for the first time. Look intently at a face. Sing a child softly to sleep. For the first time hold someone else’s hand tight feel the strength of the agreement. That we are together. A single organism. The whole species we carry within us. We are saving it inside us. To that grasp of a palm in another person’s palm to that simple act that we are now forbidden – we will return with expanded awareness. We’ll be here, more attentive, I think. Our hand will be more delicate in the doing of life. Now that we know how sad it is to stand one meter apart.