Sunday, February 13, 2011

Creative spoke to me

Creative spoke to me
and developed out of me
only when I was backed against the wall
only when I recognized hatred
only as I stood face to face
with the force of it
did I know to put the potency  
of my words forward.

Discrimination marked hatred's hostility.
I tried to write about this and
struggled with the language of this and
found myself rummaging through an
old attic trunk filled with alphabet letters
and words.

Dyslexia, a central character in my story
enabled me to see    inside-out    and    center-to-edge.
Librarian skill, also central, cataloged the contents of this attic trunk~
words of nonsense? to the trash~
words of daydream? fly them out the window~
cruel hateful words? erase them like grease pen on whiteboard~
words of judgment? light the match and watch them burn.

In my rummaging, I discovered words of understanding and words of love 
words of equality and words of kindness and I said
Oh, please come and sit with me 
show me what you are
teach me all of your words and 
I will write them until I can write no more.

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