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“hear sirens, pray loud”

journal | March 20, 2003

Renovations of my apartment building are underway.
They’re jackhammering the marble floor to smithereens.
My father can’t work from home, as the cement foundation is rattled,
sending tedious soundwaves through the entire building.
Apparently even the 21st (top) floor is complaining.

I lived through a similar situation in Amsterdam.
A chinese resturant was under construction directly below my
second–story bedroom. The tile floors, combined with the
hollow wooden frame of my bed, made for an outstandingly
acute alarm when they would begin drilling (occasionally
directly into their ceiling / my floor) promptly at 8am.

Though, this isn’t a complaint.
To be living in a building in repair,
rather than in a home under attack,
in a country in disrepair, is a blessing.

This “siren” is a signal to “pray louder”,
in the beautiful words of the poem “Wage Peace”.
However, there seems to be some confusion as to who wrote this warm reminder:

Wage Piece

Wage peace with your breath.
Breathe in firemen and rubble,
breathe out whole buildings and flocks of red wing blackbirds.
Breathe in terrorists
and breathe out sleeping children and freshly mown fields.
Breathe in confusion
and breath out maple trees.
Breathe in the fallen
and breathe out lifelong friendships intact.

Wage peace with your listening:
hear sirens, pray loud.
Remember your tools:
flower seeds, clothespins, clean rivers.
Make soup.
Play music,
learn the word thank you in three languages.
Learn to knit, and make a hat.

Think of chaos as dancing raspberries,
imagine grief as the outbreath of beauty
or the gesture of fish.
Swim for the other side.
Wage peace.

Never has the world seemed so fresh and precious.
Have a cup of tea and rejoice.
Act as if armistice has already arrived.
Don’t wait another minute.

Posted March 20, 2003 03:06 PM