A Sound As Yet Unheard
by Gail Kadison Golden
In dreams, we tried writing songs in the lost language of peace.
We found only ashes: in the backs of ovens, in the wakes of bombs
in the shadows where one burned another, proclaiming the truth.
May I be peaceful in body and spirit
May I be safe and free from harm
May I be free from anger and fear
Every soul has its mission, said the teacher, but often it happens
that the body is taken before the soul is able to finish its work.
And then to achieve its purpose,
a soul may join itself with that of a living person
Shall I carry some soul with me into the new
millenium? an African storyteller lost in the middle passage,
a new mother extinguished at Hiroshima,
a lover, torn from the beloved in Dachau, in Kosovo or in a burning tower?
And how would you know if some soul
has come to lodge with you?
Would you hum tunes of unknown origin?
Or carry a great longing that can find no root,
a pain with no source?
May we be peaceful in body and spirit
May we be safe and free from harm
May we be free from anger and fear
If the world is to be redeemed, the teacher said,
every soul must complete its journey.
How shall we move lightly into new time
burdened by the weight of ashes?
Shall we still sing songs in lost languages,
or do we need a sound as yet unheard
some pure tone that will ease our way
as we carry each otherís souls towards completion,
opening the way to new time
when we will not be afraid of each other
and we will not be afraid.
May they be peaceful in body and spirit
May they be safe and free from harm
May they be free from anger and fear
© 2001 by Gail Kadison Golden (Used by permission.)