If I Had Been Well Enough

           

           I would have turned in my charge card
           at Bonwit’s, passed on brilliant Jewish
           doctors many times, stayed at the Times
           and only jumped ship to sing bossa nova
           in Rio, throw marbles at Peronistas  
           in Buenos Aires, join freedom fighters
           anywhere.

           I would have left Gotham
           for Israel, run guns for the Haganah,  
           learned Sufi dances, taught kibbutz children,
           fallen in love with Africa before it was fashionable...
           
           so many stations,  
           never got off the train.  

           I would have gathered Nigerian babies
           in my arms, raised arms against Apartheid,
           sang with Odetta --homage to Biko, Mandela,
           the men on Robbins Island,  --
           made a difference at all the crossings.
           
           Instead,  I wore a14K peace symbol, sang
           along with Pete Seeger/The Weavers,
           read poems/stories of others¹ journeys --
           stayed on campus,
           bought no tickets for myself.
                       
           Today, deeper shadows darken the veldt,

           the moon hides her face behind clouds over the Serengheti.
           Ravens screech in Swahili.
           
           Death rides in on raging bacteria -- eboli/e.coli --
           recalcitrant viruses thrive  in swollen bellies,
           on bug-infested eyelids. Starving children
           yowl under the old gum tree where cooka-burra
           used to sing off-key.
           
           Masai use spears to dance tribal history,
           forage in arid wastelands.  Strangers poach
           Kenya wilds for zoo trophies, natives huddle
           in make-shift camps while human beasts
           inhabit the jungle, prey on fugitive families,    

           Yes, the planet still wobbles on its axis,
           techtonic plates continue to reshuffle,
           while the continent darkens as AIDS workers
           leave, soldiers stand down and night deepens
           in Darfur, Rwanda, Mogadishu...

           I weep at global sins of omission, would
           shriek with crows and ravens to wake
           the world from self-serving dreams.  I would
           carry Tibetan bells,  wave incense over Sudan,,
           kneel before Bishop Tutu and cry UHURU...
           cry why the hell aren¹t we well enough?)

                                      ------------by Lois I. Greenberg

A Licensed Clinical Social Worker in private practice, my work has appeared in Paper Street, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, HEArt (Human Equity Through Art), the National Book Foundation anthology, The Eternal Fire, hotmetalpress.net  and  on a YAWP CD.  I am coeditor of hotmetalpress and a member of the Advisory Board of Paper Street.    

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content © - Lois Greenberg
Music: © - Sabri Khan
image source -  US Department of State website