A Look At Chaos Shows This To Be True

POETRY BY SHERRY ANTONINI

Stand and hold
or pack quickly and carry.
Run after, in front of, because of
ways we are solid.
Meaning,
we can move, be moved,
but cannot be shaken.

It takes time to build, then rebuild.
Even longer to balance,
turn and stand firm by the soles of our feet.
Firm, too, by the tops of our heads.

We bear both light and weight:
gravity's pull against our push is heaven's tug.
And our robes become more beautiful.
Each stain a hundred tears
sewn, carved, rubbed into hundreds of years
of heavy night passing, cracking, straining
against, but then always into, delicate new day.

Bagdad
New Orleans
Warsaw
Constantinople
Athens
Viet Nam
Hiroshima
Kuwait
Sarajevo
Bosnia
New York City
Ethiopia
Bangladesh
Indonesia

Grandmother is here,
gold sunrise on white wall.  And Mother in the breeze.
Like early morning.  Clean sheets, open windows, doves.
Women, up before anyone else, ignoring the grey, heavy weight.  Whispering hello.