When we come to it
We, this people, on this minuscule and
kithless globe
Who reach daily for the bomb, the blade and
the dagger
Yet who petition in the dark for tokens of
peace
We, this people on this mote of matter
In whose mouths abide cankerous words
Which challenge our very existence
Yet out of those same mouths
Come songs of such exquisite sweetness
That the heart falters in its labor
And the body is quieted into awe
We, this people, on this small and drifting
planet
Whose hands can strike with such abandon
That in a twinkling, life is sapped from
the living
Yet those same hands can touch with such
healing, irresistible tenderness
That the haughty neck is happy to bow
And the proud back is glad to bend
Out of such chaos, of such contradiction
We learn that we are neither devils nor
divines
When we come to it,
We, this people, on this wayward, floating
body
Created on this earth, of this earth
Have the power to fashion for this earth
A climate where every man and every woman
Can live freely without sanctimonious piety
Without crippling fear
When we come to it
We must confess that we are the possible
We are the miraculous, the true wonder of
this world
That is when, and only when
We come to it.
--Maya Angelou, excerpt,
A Brave and Startling Truth
To read Maya
Angelou’s complete poem, click here.
Image source: https://www.brandyvanderheiden.com/change-your-relationship-with-anger-for-more-peace-in-the-world/
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