My Arms Are
Empty: A Song of Lamentation
for Ahmaud Arbery
Oh
When I saw
him die
I no
longer
cared about
the trembling the tears
no one walks these streets except
the very few
and the solitary
runners
choke
me I cannot breathe against
the rhythm
sorrow beats into my
throat
I moved into the morning and I
will
sit against this tree
seven
days they say
seven days
of tattered shirts I no longer
care let the holes be seen seven
times
seven I have found this place and I will
stay
No
I cry and no
I whisper
and no one
cares that I am
become the Pietà
without a child
even
that
even that
And I
hum ‘Oh, Mary,
Don’t You
Weep” and she is now
here with me
saying No
you will you must drain your heart
until the
others come
and
the others will
This tree is
not shelter not from
the devouring
fire it burns
forever and our scars
pulse
with the
rage that cannot sound
when the
others come
I will
know that we
will
then unclench
our swollen
fingers
Our hands
will drum our sorrow
into this
ground
Yes I see
you glance
at me yes I am
the one who
whispers each
child’s
name if I cannot hold
them to my
breast I will
hold them
with my song
Yes
live child
you live
and this
tree and
I will be the place where
no lie can
live
Joseph - another moving outcry speaking truth to anyone who will listen! Thank you again!
ReplyDeleteThe tree becomes the resting spot for grief...and a place to gather remembrance...thank you for these images.
ReplyDeleteRich
Joe, I thank you for sharing and inspiring me, and so many others to keep looking to the sky as hate continue to burn beneath our feet and shoot pain through our hearts.The hate that killed Ahmaud is rooted in the legacy of slavery; mankind's original " Sin against God".
ReplyDeleteJoseph, this poem came on the day we end Nurses Week, because May 12th is the day of Florence Nightingale's birthday. Blend the themes of nursing and caring with your image of holding the grief and bearing witness at the foot of the cross, while in the torment of the moment, not aware that yes, in time, this death slowly raises up the value of the individual to new heights.
ReplyDeleteJoseph, wow. Just another brilliant poem..."brilliant" in the sense of the bright warmth it brings to us.
ReplyDeleteHow wonderful, Fr. Brown. Thank you for the insightful poem. I could feel her pain.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem Father Brown. So much symbolism to decode, I wish we could discuss this in class!
ReplyDeleteThis is so lovely and so painful. Thank you.
ReplyDelete