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What if the mightest word is love. . . .

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Namaste

 

This is Elizabeth's poem that was read for the Inaguration of

President Obama. . .

 

Thought it definitely had an Amma's breath within it. . .

 

 

Praise song for the day.

 

Each day we go about our business, walking past each other, catching

each others' eyes or not, about to speak or speaking. All about us is

noise. All about us is noise and bramble, thorn and din, each one of

our ancestors on our tongues. Someone is stitching up a hem, darning a

hole in a uniform, patching a tire, repairing the things in need of

repair.

 

Someone is trying to make music somewhere with a pair of wooden spoons

on an oil drum with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.

 

A woman and her son wait for the bus.

 

A farmer considers the changing sky; A teacher says, " Take out your

pencils. Begin. "

 

We encounter each other in words, words spiny or smooth, whispered or

declaimed; words to consider, reconsider.

 

We cross dirt roads and highways that mark the will of someone and

then others who said, " I need to see what's on the other side; I know

there's something better down the road. "

 

We need to find a place where we are safe; We walk into that which we

cannot yet see.

 

Say it plain, that many have died for this day. Sing the names of the

dead who brought us here, who laid the train tracks, raised the

bridges, picked the cotton and the lettuce, built brick by brick the

glittering edifices they would then keep clean and work inside of.

 

 

Praise song for struggle; praise song for the day. Praise song for

every hand-lettered sign; The figuring it out at kitchen tables.

 

Some live by " Love thy neighbor as thy self. "

 

Others by first do no harm, or take no more than you need.

 

What if the mightiest word is love, love beyond marital, filial,

national. Love that casts a widening pool of light. Love with no need

to preempt grievance.

 

In today's sharp sparkle, this winter air, anything can be made, any

sentence begun.

 

On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp -- praise song for walking

forward in that light.

 

 

Elizabeth Alexander, poem for Jan. 20, 2009---Barach Obama Inaugural poem

 

Aum Amriteswaryai Namaha

marci

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