Bandages
I bring bandages for hearts broken by departures from ancestral homes.
I bring bandages for feet without shoes cut by rocks at the shores of dangerous seas.
I bring bandages for children who long for mothers’s, fathers’ arms
I bring bandages, triple antibiotic ointment and gauze wrap
I will hand these out to those of us cut by vicious mouthings and poisonous eyes
I hope my bandages will stop the tears of fears, not knowing what is ahead
Bandages for cuts and bruises from life was we know it
For generation 2000 now, for this one world off kilter
Muster courage, pray for guidance
Hold hands.
Daniel Raskin, 02.13.2025
On That Same Fifth Day
(der. from “Pledge Allegiance” by Natalie Scenters-Zapico and “On the Fifth Day” by Jane Hirshfield)
When they dredged the dead river, some were surprised by what they found.
Some were not.
A mother’s left ear.
Seeds that slipped off the drawbridge as it parted
to let slave ships and cruise ships through
and through again.
Seeds whose coats had become so hardened
they were unable to receive Mama Earth in the black-blue deep.
It is time to summon all the Mothers
to pockets on fire
and purses filled with tears.
Then it will be time to sit at their feet,
Black Madonnas all,
ask for the stories of ash.
First. Cover all your years of self in it.
Second. Eat it like charcoal to treat your overdose.
The Ash is an ancient tree
whose seeds begin dormant
who germinate only when we tend them in gathered silence
dropped down to our knees.
You are a tender.
You are a seed.
This will happen on the Fifth Day.
- Coke Tani, 01.28.25