Kindness
Before you know what
kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a
moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what
you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate
the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and
ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and
chicken
will stare out the window forever.
Before you learn the tender
gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be
you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.
Before you know kindness as
the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest
thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your
voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the
cloth.
Then it is only kindness
that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you
out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that
raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been
looking for,
and then goes with you every where
like a shadow or a
friend.
~ Naomi Shihab Nye
~
(Words From Under the Words:
Selected Poems)
for my daughter....
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