“I do know this”: a poem for today

I do know this

I cannot speak of the truth

that is rising into being now.

Beneath the pain there is a pulse.

I dare not speak of that

which I cannot fully see,

as I turn my head and

strain my neck

to capture a sight of it,

but I feel it in my bones.

It is too glorious a thing,

this life, striving to be born.

I need to be still to feel it,

to cradle it in my hands.

I need to be silent to hear it

chirping through the shell of the egg.

There is only a glimpse,

and that from the side,

like Moses tucked in the rock.

I do know this:

There is a Mother

whose mercy is the annihilation

of the illusion of our separateness.

Her fierce grace teaches us

that we can only love

the sharp edges off each other.

The deep lines in her hands teach

that dignity leaves a mark

on the skin. It is indelible.

She whispers to us

that hate is only fear

that has never been touched by

love, because once touched…

Remember.

Remember.

Remember.

–Stuart Higginbotham