A Self Portrait
After Adam Zagajewski – The frame I used is from his poem, and I have put them in italics.
Between my cell phone, the kitchen, and my love seat
half my day passes. It is well past half a century.
I live in a land where Arabic is the language of
music and the streets.
I listen to the language’s songs, even though
I only catch an occasional meaning in the volley around me.
I see two sides battling for my inner life.
I read stories about faith and hope and life and love and I am nurtured.
I like to write poems and letters and blog posts that no one reads.
Beside me is my partner, faithful and true.
I’m no longer able to make my mark here, but I have passed the torch
and I am content and at peace.
I like a listening ear
and spicy milk tea.
Sometimes at the sea, the miniscule waves speak to me and I am comforted.
I love working with children as they learn, create, and find their voices.
Every Friday I eat baked salmon and have a day of rest.
I am not unaware of my privilege.
I’m truly not a child of the moon,
of which Mick Jagger sang,
but a child of the Son,
and not all the plans God has for me
are met in this life that—so far—
still belongs to me.
My country freed itself from one evil. I wish
another liberation would follow.
Could I help in this? I don’t know.