JAMES BALDWIN SAID:

Life is tragic simply because the earth turns and the sun inexorably rises and sets, and one day, for each of us, the sun will go down for the last. Perhaps the whole root of our trouble, the human trouble, is that we will sacrifice all the beauty of our lives, will imprison ourselves in totems, taboos, crosses, blood sacrifices, steeples, mosques, races, armies, flags, nations, in order to deny the fact of death, which is the only fact we have.

For while the tale of how we suffer, and how we are delighted and how we may triumph is never new, it always must be heard. There isn’t any other tale to tell. It’s the only light we’ve got in all this darkness. (James Baldwin)

No One Has Heard

No one can truly hear the song another sings
We cannot even hear our own
no words--only tones
rising to the rough surface
then sinking down into
the mystery of dreams

Songs of memory, songs of dread, songs of longing
Beyond this plane we have met

Will meet again
before birth, before earth
to create our themes and variations
all soul songs moving, mingling
quiet as grief

No one can hear
though it is our life's work
to listen and sing--
a choir in the blue air
among the stars

Poem at Michaelmas

I am self-contained
I bear my self within me
I am apt
I am alone