Celebrations (3 page)

Please my many million men

Let us lay that image aside

See how our people today

Walk in strength and in pride

Celebrate, stand up, clap hands for ourselves
and those who went before

Stand up, clap hands, let us welcome kind
words back into our vocabulary

Stand up, clap hands, let us welcome
courtesies back into our bedrooms

Stand up, clap hands, let us invite generosity
back into our kitchens

Clap hands, let faith find a place in our souls

Clap hands, let hope live in our hearts

We have survived

And even thrived with

Passion

Compassion

Humor

and style

The night was long

The wounds were deep

The pit was dark

Its walls were steep

Clap hands, celebrate

We deserve it

Jubilate!

Thunder rumbles in the mountain passes

And lightning rattles the eaves of our houses.

Floodwaters await in our avenues.

Snow falls upon snow, falls upon snow
to avalanche

Over unprotected villages.

The sky slips low and gray and threatening.

We question ourselves. What have we done to
so affront nature?

We interrogate and worry God.

Are you there? Are you there, really?

Does the covenant you made with us still
hold?

Into this climate of fear and apprehension,
Christmas enters,

Streaming lights of joy, ringing bells of hope

And singing carols of forgiveness high up in
the bright air.

The world is encouraged to come away from
rancor,

Come the way of friendship.

It is the Glad Season.

Thunder ebbs to silence and lightning sleeps
quietly in the corner.

Floodwaters recede into memory.

Snow becomes a yielding cushion to aid us

As we make our way to higher ground.

Hope is born again in the faces of children.

It rides on the shoulders of our aged as they
walk into their sunsets.

Hope spreads around the earth, brightening
all things,

Even hate, which crouches breeding in dark
corridors.

In our joy, we think we hear a whisper.

At first it is too soft. Then only half heard.

We listen carefully as it gathers strength.

We hear a sweetness.

The word is Peace.

It is loud now.

Louder than the explosion of bombs.

We tremble at the sound. We are thrilled by
its presence.

It is that for which we have hungered.

Not just the absence of war. But true Peace.

A harmony of spirit, a comfort of courtesies.

Security for our beloveds and their beloveds.

We clap hands and welcome the Peace of
Christmas.

We beckon this good season to wait awhile
with us.

We, Baptist and Buddhist, Methodist and
Muslim, say come.

Peace.

Come and fill us and our world with your
majesty.

We, the Jew and the Jainist, the Catholic and
the Confucian,

Implore you to stay awhile with us

So we may learn by your shimmering light

How to look beyond complexion and see
community.

It is Christmas time, a halting of hate time.

On this platform of peace, we can create a
language

To translate ourselves to ourselves and to
each other.

At this Holy Instant, we celebrate the Birth of
Jesus Christ

Into the great religions of the world.

We jubilate the precious advent of trust.

We shout with glorious tongues the coming of
hope.

All the earth’s tribes loosen their voices

To celebrate the promise of Peace.

We, Angels and Mortals, Believers and
Nonbelievers,

Look heavenward and speak the word aloud.

Peace. We look at our world and speak the
word aloud.

Peace. We look at each other, then into
ourselves,

And we say without shyness or apology or
hesitation:

Peace, My Brother.

Peace, My Sister.

Peace, My Soul.

It is true

I was created in you.

It is also true

That you were created for me.

I owned your voice.

It was shaped and tuned to soothe me.

Your arms were molded

Into a cradle to hold me, to rock me.

The scent of your body was the air

Perfumed for me to breathe.

Mother,

During those early, dearest days

I did not dream that you had

A larger life which included me,

Among your other concerns,

For I had a life

Which was only you.

Time passed steadily and drew us apart.

I was unwilling.

I feared if I let you go

You would leave me eternally.

You smiled at my fears, saying

I could not stay in your lap forever

That one day you would have to stand

And where would I be?

You smiled again.

I did not.

Without warning you left me,

But you returned immediately.

You left again and returned,

I admit, quickly.

But relief did not rest with me easily.

You left again, but again returned.

You left again, but again returned.

Each time you reentered my world

You brought assurance.

Slowly I gained confidence.

You thought you knew me,

But I did know you,

You thought you were watching me,

But I did hold you securely in my sight,

Recording every movement,

Memorizing your smiles, tracing your frowns.

In your absence

I rehearsed you,

The way you had of singing

On a breeze,

While a sob lay

At the root of your song.

The way you posed your head

So that the light could caress your face

When you put your fingers on my hand

And your hand on my arm,

I was blessed with a sense of health,

Of strength and very good fortune.

You were always

The heart of happiness to me,

Bringing nougats of glee,

Sweets of open laughter.

I loved you even during the years

When you knew nothing

And I knew everything, I loved you still.

Condescendingly of course,

From my high perch

Of teenage wisdom.

I spoke sharply to you, often

Because you were slow to understand.

I grew older and

Was stunned to find

How much knowledge you had gleaned.

And so quickly.

Mother, I have learned enough now

To know I have learned nearly nothing.

On this day

When mothers are being honored,

Let me thank you

That my selfishness, ignorance, and mockery

Did not bring you to

Discard me like a broken doll

Which had lost its favor.

I thank you that

You still find something in me

To cherish, to admire, and to love.

I thank you, Mother.

I love you.

The sun has come out

The mists have gone

We see in the distance

Our long way home

I was yours to love

You were always mine

We have belonged together

In and out of time

When the first stone looked

Up at the blazing sun

And the first tree struggled

From the forest floor

I loved you more

You were the rhythm on the head

Of the conga drum

And the brush of palm

On my nut brown skin

And I loved you then

We worked the cane

And cotton fields

We trod together

The city streets

Wearied by labor

Bruised by cruelty

Strutting and sassy

To our inner beat

And all the while

Lord, how I love your smile

You’ve freed your braids

Gave your hair to the breeze

It hummed like a hive

Of busy bees

I reached into the mass

For the honeycomb there

God, how I loved your hair

You saw me bludgeoned

By circumstance

Injured by hate

And lost to chance

Legs that could be broken

But knees that would not bend

Oh, you loved me then

I raked the Heavens’ belly

With torrid screams

I fought to turn

Nightmares into dreams

My protests were loud

And brash and bold

My, how you loved my soul

The sun has come out

The mists have gone

We see in the distance

Our long way home

I was yours to love

And you were always mine

We have belonged together

In and out of time

To you

in your walled city of childhood,

the years have inched by slowly, tortoise—like
crawling,

yet to your family and family of friends

the time has hurried, without halting,

without leaving enough seasons in which

to know you, to teach you, to love you.

You have been noted studying the Torah,

probing the words of ancient prophets
reading,

To many

you have come too suddenly to the new
region of manhood.