When Haiti Crumbled

I cried alongside the world from the outside

and inside, my heart mirrored the crumbling,

the grief and decay.

I cannot comprehend

disaster 

from my location in my home intact 

where my family sleeps

and my earth has not quaked beneath my feet

and no dust covers my arms

and no rubble sits at my ankles

and no debris surrounds me like a sea

drowning cultural history and family memory.

But I see anguish in the silent screams

the snapshots of broken faces

crumpled bodies and eyes

gazing back at me.

I think about Edwidge Danticat,

her friends and family. I feel I know them

personally, through the power of her stories.

Are they okay? And their friends?

And their friends? And their friends?

The concentric circles and intersecting

webs of our humanity

are the woven threads of our stories

that hold us together, entice us 

to give love, give aid, give care, give

our grieving hearts to one another

to hold onto for awhile and keep safe

while we tend to the daily matters

of surviving the latest tragedy.

I imagine the cauldron of hands that creates our world

holding the hearts of the people of Haiti in love

through energy, prayers, donations, labor,

so that grieving can happen and rebuilding can happen

and medical care can arrive and lives that have perished

can rest in peace and survivors can find peace...

My heart is crumbling

disappearing into the debris of Haiti

disappearing into the grief patterns of displacement

displacement displacement displacement

that has haunted Haiti’s people, Haiti’s soil

disappearing into dust and dispersing again

like so many seeds into the wind.

I cannot possibly comprehend

disaster

from my location

from my intact home

on stable soil

But my heart understands tragedy

My cell memories know displacement

My hands hold generations of grief

And my hands also hold stories of healing

woven by the heart webs of humanity

Haiti, I extend my hand

and hold your heart 

inside my heart

while you heal…


--Diana Tigerlily