Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Father of the Nation

No frenzied lashing out, demand
For vengeance, pointing finger,
No tearing apart, rushing to
Judgement. No smart sound bite.

Instead, a firm, steadying hand,
A warm embrace draws us all
Together. A song from the heart.
In place of blindness, sight.

A soft voice, in command,
Soaring way above the storm,
Swaddles us in the eye of his calm,
Glorious sunrise after darkest night.

He is the breathing of the land,
The pulse within. He is the cool breeze
to come. He is no one. He is everyone.
He is the light.

Hallelujah! We have a real Poet Laureate. If you haven't read Carol Ann Duffy's piece on Birmingham, look it up.

1 comment:

  1. Tajiq showed a dignity and controlled grace second to none. I too can only respect and applaud this gentleman who showed us so much in a time when his heart was surely aching for his boy. I enjoyed your poem this is a clever use of words which say so much in a short time.