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This poem started with a single image, a small bird I saw while on a walk. The little one lay dead in a concrete gutter next to a construction site. I was moved to pick her up and find some earth to lay her on. A larger awareness opened up as I started writing from this experience.
Guide Them Home Delicate green body Bright yellow wings The little one lay there as she fell in the gutter I passed by and a twinge smaller than this little one poked my conscience A small prayer welled up inside from a deep, soft place Up through the hard, dry, dusty concrete encrusting my heart A small prayer of sympathy A small prayer for the little one fallen alone in an empty place a garbage place a lifeless place A small prayer for the little one So far from her home in this world The green branches So far from her home in the next The warm embrace of moist earth The small prayer grew larger insistent to become Forcing its way up through cracks in my indifference Forcing its way to the surface Forcing its way to become And I knew It was not right to die alone And I knew It’s not just a dead bird And I knew This little one must go home So I turned around now many paces further down the road And returned to the little one secretly hoping to find her gone but knowing well she was still lying in the gray dust. I uttered the prayer I cradled the tiny, stiff, delicate body and placed the green-yellow being on Earth so that she may fly once more So it is for all the little ones fallen on barren, man-made places We must gently lift them and guide them home - Jose Enciso |
Advice to Young Poets
by Martín Espada Never pretend to be a unicorn by sticking a plunger on your head |