“hark, now hear the sailors cry,
smell the sea, and feel the sky
let your soul & spirit fly, into the mystic...”
― Van Morrison
Thinking of the families of five young Nova Scotian men lost at sea. The beautiful sea. The ruthless sea. The sea we love and live by. This week, the sea of sorrow.
In this world, there are many people.
I will dance today with One Billion Rising with one of my grandsons in my arms. I will dance for many reasons.
Poem below is taken from IN THIS HOUSE ARE MANY WOMEN, Goose Lane Editions, 1992. The title of the book is taken from the first suite of poems--the voices of women in a shelter. This is the last poem in the section--Marie is the angel who watches over the house.
I am the angel of this house
house of broken dreams
house where dreams begin again
house of women
At night when you are sleeping
I sing lullabies
lullabies for every Edna
and all the women before you
and all the ones whose names
I do not know yet
who will come after
I sing lullabies for Jason
and all the sons of violence
lullabies for the men who live here
in the nightmares and the dreams
of all the women
hope my song will float and settle
upon their foreheads
like a cool cloth to soothe
the pain fists and words have caused
I sing lullabies for all the others
living in a house
where there is no shelter
I cradle pain within my wings
sing one more lullaby
pray that some day
in this house of many women
there will not be
More inks to one billion rising :
Dance, Dance, DANCE on. The dance is on.