I was not going to post today, but I came across this poem by Naomi Shihab Nye and it resonated with me. She wrote about language’s paradoxical power and fragility. Even though we may use the same words, they each mean something different to each of us based on our culture, history, and personal experiences. We have to be mindful and attentive to our use of language. It speaks to our character in the story we narrate through the words we choose and share with others.
Language possesses the power to bridge differences. The fragility lies in the idea that we can only hope language bridges differences.
The opening lines remind me of the etymological roots of companion, meaning to break bread with others on a journey, but, in this instance, it is a fragile journey. The food and tea do not taste quite right under the circumstances.
The last stanza speaks about holding words delicately and pressing our lips on each syllable as we are kissing them, hence the title of the poem.
I break this toast for the ghost of bread in Lebanon.
The split stone, the toppled doorway.
Someone’s kettle has been crushed.
Someone’s sister has a gash above her right eye.
And now our tea has trouble being sweet.
A strawberry softens, turns musty,
overnight each apple grows a bruise.
I tie both shoes on Lebanon’s feet.
All day the sky in Texas which has seen no rain since June
is raining Lebanese mountains, Lebanese trees.
What if the air grew damp with the names of mothers,
the clear belled voices of first-graders
pinned to the map of Lebanon like a shield?
When I visited the camp of the opposition
near the lonely Golan, looking northward toward
Syria and Lebanon, a vine was springing pinkly from a tin can
and a woman with generous hips like my mother’s
said Follow me.
2
Someone was there.
Someone not there now was standing.
Someone in the wrong place
with a small moon-shaped scar on his left cheek
and a boy by the hand.
Who had just drunk water, sharing the glass.
Who had not thought about it deeply
though they might have, had they known.
Someone grown and someone not-grown.
Who thought they had different amounts of time left.
This guessing game ends with our hands in the air,
becoming air.
One who was there is not there, for no reason.
Two who were there.
It was almost too big to see.
3
Our friend from Turkey says language is so delicate
he likens it to a darling.
We will take this word in our arms.
It will be small and breathing.
We will not wish to scare it.
Pressing lips to the edge of each syllable.
Nothing else will save us now.
The word “together” wants to live in every house.
ivonprefontaine
Teacher as Transformer 
thank you for sharing this –
You are welcome.
Reblogged this on Die Erste Eslarner Zeitung – Aus und über Eslarn, sowie die bayerisch-tschechische Region!.
Love Nye!
I do too. She writes from a personal space.
Very powerful. Thank you for sharing, Ivon.
Thank you and you are welcome.
A great post. Love this!
I am glad you enjoyed. Thank you for stopping by.
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What a beautiful poem.
Thank you.
Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:
WORDS IN VERSE HELP US UNDERSTAND THE UNIVERSE! THANK YOU FOR THIS POST!
That is a great way of understanding the universe.
“near the lonely Golan”, ah, but as a Palestinian,she shows her longing for her homeland, and the occupiers are not cherishing the word “together”, quite the opposite, so she is longing for the love that could be, if this word was everyone’s mantra.
That is a lovely sentiment. We have to find ways to live together and in community. Perhaps, poetry will help us find our way.
May it be so. Poets are visionaries, as can be seen in this profound poem.
Words have begun wars, and words can end wars, both within and without.
…and I’m going to quote myself! Words are Mantras
They are mantras and mantras depend on how we use them. You arre so right as to the power our words have.
I like the idea of poetry as a beacon of understanding. Perhaps that is why I don’t enjoy poetry that doesn’t seem to know where it is going or perhaps that is the issue at heart, I cannot go just anywhere and don’t care for my restriction. Is it better, then just to enjoy what can be enjoyed or to search for an opening? A riddle for you Ivon. Personally, if possible I just enjoy.
I think, when we enjoy, the openings appear. It is a miracle that way. The other day I was on one of my daily walks. I was enjoying the walk and all of a sudden a deer appeared. In that opening, the enjoyment exceeded itself.