nothin “Praise Song” For A Pathway | New Haven Independent

Praise Song” For A Pathway

Kica Matos Photo

While New Haveners marched on local streets for immigration reform this week, some other New Haveners brought the same call to the streets of the nation’s capital — in one case, in verse.

The verse was provided by New Haven poet Elizabeth Alexander (pictured), who read a poem at a rally for an expeditious” path to citizenship” for undocumented immigrants. An estimated 100,000 people attended the Capitol rally. Alexander read a bilingual version of the poem she wrote for and delivered at President Obama’s 2009 inauguration.

A fellow New Havener, Kica Matos of the national Center for Community Change, introduced Alexander to the crowd. Matos was a prime organizer of the rally.

Michael Saldarriago Photo

Here’s what Alexander read in English:

Each day we go about our business,
walking past each other, catching each other’s
eyes or not, about to speak or speaking.

All about us is noise. All about us is
noise and bramble, thorn and din, each
one of our ancestors on our tongues.

Someone is stitching up a hem, darning
a hole in a uniform, patching a tire,
repairing the things in need of repair.

Someone is trying to make music somewhere,
with a pair of wooden spoons on an oil drum,
with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.

A woman and her son wait for the bus.
A farmer considers the changing sky.
A teacher says, Take out your pencils. Begin.

We encounter each other in words, words
spiny or smooth, whispered or declaimed,
words to consider, reconsider.

Stephen Pitti Photo

U.S. Rep. John Lewis addresses the crowd.

We cross dirt roads and highways that mark
the will of some one and then others, who said
I need to see what’s on the other side.

I know there’s something better down the road.
We need to find a place where we are safe.
We walk into that which we cannot yet see.

Say it plain: that many have died for this day.
Sing the names of the dead who brought us here,
who laid the train tracks, raised the bridges,

picked the cotton and the lettuce, built
brick by brick the glittering edifices
they would then keep clean and work inside of.

Praise song for struggle, praise song for the day.
Praise song for every hand-lettered sign,
the figuring-it-out at kitchen tables.

Some live by love thy neighbor as thyself,
others by first do no harm or take no more
than you need. What if the mightiest word is love?

Love beyond marital, filial, national,
love that casts a widening pool of light,
love with no need to pre-empt grievance.

In today’s sharp sparkle, this winter air,
any thing can be made, any sentence begun.
On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp,

praise song for walking forward in that light. 

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