Last Friday I spent the\u00a0afternoon visiting with, and an evening listening to, Joy Harjo at the University of Michigan\u2019s Michigan League. \u00a0 Joy emailed on Wednesday to explore the possibility that I could drive to Ann Arbor. \u00a0 It worked out because I had a free afternoon and evening, an unanticipated grace. \u00a0She read mostly from her most recent book \u00a0Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings<\/u>. \u00a0Listening took me into stillness for c. 2 hours; \u00a0to the language of her poems and of her flute, and her sax. \u00a0Definitely worth the 45 mile drive from our campus to Ann Arbor.<\/p>\n
That night\u00a0Joy introduced me to the Chaldean poet Dunya Mikhail. \u00a0Dunya and I share some of the sprawling space of Metro Detroit and we share the Catholic faith, hers Chaldean, mine 1840\u2019s immigrant European. \u00a0When I got home, I looked for some of her poetry and found \u00a0\u201cI Was in a Hurry.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Today\u2019s Post: \u00a0\u201cI Was in a Hurry\u201d<\/p>\n
Yesterday I lost a country.<\/p>\n
I was in a hurry,<\/p>\n
and didn\u2019t notice when it fell from me<\/p>\n
like a broken branch from a forgetful tree.<\/p>\n
Please, if anyone passes by<\/p>\n
and stumbles across it,<\/p>\n
perhaps in a suitcase<\/p>\n
open to the sky,<\/p>\n
or engraved on a rock<\/p>\n
like a gaping wound,<\/p>\n
or wrapped<\/p>\n
in the blankets of emigrants,<\/p>\n
or canceled<\/p>\n
like a losing lottery ticket,<\/p>\n
or helplessly forgotten<\/p>\n
in Purgatory,<\/p>\n
or rushing forward without a goal<\/p>\n
like the questions of children,<\/p>\n
or rising with the smoke of war,<\/p>\n
or rolling in a helmet on the sand,<\/p>\n
or stolen in Ali Baba\u2019s jar,<\/p>\n
or disguised in the uniform of a policeman<\/p>\n
who stirred up the prisoners<\/p>\n
and fled,<\/p>\n
or squatting in the mind of a woman<\/p>\n
who tries to smile,<\/p>\n
or scattered like the dreams<\/p>\n
of new immigrants in America.<\/p>\n
If anyone stumbles across it,<\/p>\n
return it to me, please.<\/p>\n
Please return it, sir.<\/p>\n
Please return it, madam.<\/p>\n
It is my country\u2026<\/p>\n
I was in a hurry<\/p>\n
when I lost it yesterday.<\/p>\n
\u201cI Was in a Hurry\u201d by Dunya Mikhail, translated by\u00a0Elizabeth Winslow, from\u00a0The War Works Hard<\/a><\/p>\n Today\u2019s post # 2\u00a0<\/strong>\u00a0(from November 9, 2016) \u00a0\u00a0\u201cwhat they did yesterday afternoon\u201d<\/p>\n they set my aunts house on fire i\u2019ve been praying, later that night<\/p>\n i held an atlas in my lap it answered Warsan Shire<\/strong> Friday, First Day in December Harsh news these past days brought to mind how much of my city I share with a large Muslim community and a large Chaldean community. \u00a0I\u2019ve posted poems from both of these places in my … Continue reading ![\"\"](\"https:\/\/sites.udmercy.edu\/poetry\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/170\/2017\/03\/Dunya-Mikhail.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/sites.udmercy.edu\/poetry\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/170\/2016\/09\/warsan-shire.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n
\ni cried the way women on tv do
\nfolding at the middle
\nlike a five pound note.
\ni called the boy who use to love me
\ntried to \u2018okay\u2019 my voice
\ni said\u00a0hello
\nhe said\u00a0warsan, what\u2019s wrong, what\u2019s happened?<\/p>\n
\nand these are what my prayers look like;
\ndear god
\ni come from two countries
\none is thirsty
\nthe other is on fire
\nboth need water.<\/p>\n
\nran my fingers across the whole world
\nand whispered
\nwhere does it hurt?<\/p>\n
\neverywhere
\neverywhere
\neverywhere.<\/p>\n
\n<\/strong>https:\/\/sites.udmercy.edu\/poetry\/2016\/09\/30\/sept-30-where-does-it-hurt-warsan-shire\/<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"