https://markcollinsfineart.com/
Sometimes, we have to make ourselves known,
to perch high enough to be able to chant our
prayers out across open terrain because
to be silent in the scrub would be
to defy something bold and invisible.
I’ve watched birds do this, and other wild
things, and some children who hadn’t
yet lost memory of their true nature. They
make me happy in their way of being
of this world.
I think in each one of us there are words
that we’ve been asked to speak, but not
all of us do. Sometimes, there is just too
much keeping them choked down for too
long and we forget what a voice is for. Then,
grief, like firmly wrapped talons, won’t let go.
There are stories like that in my family tree,
silences where there should have been words.
I’ve learned to be able to speak to them, but
finding listeners isn’t easy.
What about you? What are your words,
and have you spoken them out to the world?
Have you implored people to listen? Please
do. It will change things. I promise.
In the Kalahari, there’s a goshawk on the branch
of a tree rooted in the cradle of humanity,
chanting, over and over again, something
that he wants you to hear.
Listen.
As I pray that you will.
© 2018/Jamie K. Reaser
For book project collaboration with artist Mark Collins
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