2 November

Poem: Do Not Speak Poorly Of Your Life

by Jon Katz
Do Not Speak Poorly Of Your Life
Do Not Speak Poorly Of Your Life

Listen to me for just one second,

the old toothless woman in the market

whispered to me as I past her bone

thin arm outstretched with a rusty tin cup,

her dirty rags shedding

clouds of dust.

“Give me a coin,” she said,” honor me,

give me my dignity,

and I will tell you some

wonderful secrets about life in this world.”

I had no quarter, only a silver dollar, and I reached into

my pocket and put it into her cup, and bowed to her,

and wished her peace and compassion.

She motioned for me to sit down on the ground, and I did.

and she shook a rattle at me, and reached for a crystal,

and beat her cup with a spoon.

“Do not speak poorly of your life,” she said, “or make a mockery of it.”

And then, she whispered, “fear is a ghost, you can put your finger right through his heart.”

And she waited, and laughed, and the most beautiful song came out of her mouth,

it turned the heads of everyone in the crowded market.

“Love is the point,” she said.

And she touched my forehead with her bony fingers, and looked me in the eye,

I felt my heart sing and jump.

Close your eyes for just a moment, she said,

and all your fears and fantasies will vanish.

And they did.

We said goodbye, and she clasped my hand,

“Tonight,” she said, “the moon and the stars

will argue over who will tuck you in tonight,

and kiss you on the cheek.”

 

 

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