For 1001 Arabian nights,
Scheherazade sat
on the sultan’s bed,
entrancing him with stories,
night after night, until
he sent away the executioner
waiting outside the door.
If stories could capture
even a brutal man’s attention,
think of what we can do,
sharing our fears and sorrows
until we soften like the sultan,
to see beyond our own rage
the humanity of each beating heart.
Back in the 80’s, a group of doctors from both the USSR and the USA, organized meetings to argue for the elimination of nuclear weapons. One of the Russian doctors played the sound of a beating heart over the PA system in his meeting. He said, “That is the sound of a beating Russian heart,” paused and added, “It is also the sound of a beating American heart.” Your poem brought waves and waves of tenderness to my old heart. Thank you for writing and thanks to Braided Way for publishing it. Hang in there.
lovely response, Pat Jobe
Thank you! I am honored by your kind words.