Inpsyte

PLEASE CALL ME BY MY TRUE NAMES

Do not say that I'll depart tomorrow
because even today I still arrive.

Look deeply; I arrive in every second
to be a bud on a spring branch,
to be a tiny bird with wings still fragile,
learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.

I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,
in order to fear and to hope,
the rhythm of my heart is the birth and death
of all that are alive.

I am the mayfly metamorphosing on the
surface of the river,
and I am the bird which, when spring comes,
arrives in time to eat the mayfly.

I am a frog swimming happily in the clear
water of a pond,
and I am the grass-snake who, approaching in silence,
feeds itself on the frog.

I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks,
and I am the arm's merchant,
selling deadly weapons of Uganda.

I am the twelve-year-old girl,
refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean after being
raped by a sea pirate,
and I am the pirate, my heart not yet capable
of seeing and loving.

I am a member of the Politburo, with plenty of
power in my hands
and I am the man who has to pay her "debt of blood"
to my people,
dying slowly in a forced labor camp.

My joy is like spring so warm it makes
flowers bloom in all walks of life.
My pain is like a river of tears, so full
it fills all four oceans.

Please call me by my true names, so I can hear
all my cries and laughs at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.

Please call me by my true names, so I can wake up
and so the door of my heart can be left open,
the door of compassion.

Reprinted with permission of Parallax press, Berkeley.

UTNE READER. May/June 1991, pp 144

*Sexual Abuse - Victims*	*Sexual Abuse - Offenders*	*Domestic Violence*
*We Care*	*Jungian Psychology*	*Dreams, Poetry & Symbolism*
*Creative Writing & Inspiration*	*Art Work/ Mandalas*	*Sexual Abuse Art/Art Journal*