This week's "completely and totally optional idea" is to incorporate dialogue of some sort in a poem. This is a piece I've been tinkering with for some time, inspired by reading Mr. Wiesel's Nobel speech. If you want to know more about this singular man, he has a foundation to combat intolerance and injustice.
Elie Wiesel Visits with God
"every moment is a moment of grace, every hour an offering;"
--Elie Wiesel, in his Nobel Prize Acceptance Speech, 1986
It's not what I expected. My family
doesn't recognize me and whose fault
is that? The last time I saw my mother
I was fifteen. She is younger than I am now.
Why have you cursed them with ease?
She remembers the moment we were torn
apart, but even that has faded, a vague
second childbirth. What will you grant me,
oh, Lord? You left me to live. This is no
homecoming. Shall I recite Shehekhyanu?
'Thank you, God, King of the Universe
for sustaining me to reach this day'.
My baby sisters peek shyly around
our mother's back. My father still the shadow
swallowed by Buchenwald. Even here, the dead
coat my tongue with ashes. Please
understand, this is not bitterness talking,
just fatigue. Lord knows, you schooled me well
in the lessons of endurance. And still you refuse
to unburden me, only repeat back my own words.
"Our lives no longer belong to us alone. They
belong to all those who need us desperately."