{"id":3657,"date":"2013-01-22T11:33:34","date_gmt":"2013-01-22T11:33:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blog.beliefnet.com\/fellowshipofsaintsandsinners\/?p=3657"},"modified":"2018-07-19T19:58:59","modified_gmt":"2018-07-19T19:58:59","slug":"one-today","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/fellowshipofsaintsandsinners\/2013\/01\/one-today.html","title":{"rendered":"“One Today”"},"content":{"rendered":"

Of all the pageantry in yesterday’s presidential inauguration ceremony, engineer-poet Richard Blanco’s contribution most moved me.<\/p>\n

The delicate interconnectedness of our lives and of all creation.<\/p>\n

Our shared “now” and the gravity of this moment for future generations.<\/p>\n

Hope that, like a constellation, dares us to map it and name it.<\/p>\n

Maybe poetry uniquely can evoke sentiments in us that would otherwise lie dormant, giving voice to shared experience in a way that, mysteriously, transforms us.<\/p>\n

Here is the full text of Blanco’s poem, and you can hear Blanco read it here<\/a>.<\/p>\n

“One Today”<\/strong><\/p>\n

One sun rose on us today, kindled over our shores,
\npeeking over the Smokies, greeting the faces
\nof the Great Lakes, spreading a simple truth
\nacross the Great Plains, then charging across the Rockies.
\nOne light, waking up rooftops, under each one, a story
\ntold by our silent gestures moving behind windows.<\/p>\n

My face, your face, millions of faces in morning’s mirrors,
\neach one yawning to life, crescendoing into our day:
\npencil-yellow school buses, the rhythm of traffic lights,
\nfruit stands: apples, limes, and oranges arrayed like rainbows
\nbegging our praise. Silver trucks heavy with oil or paper\u2014
\nbricks or milk, teeming over highways alongside us,
\non our way to clean tables, read ledgers, or save lives\u2014
\nto teach geometry, or ring-up groceries as my mother did
\nfor twenty years, so I could write this poem.<\/p>\n

All of us as vital as the one light we move through,
\nthe same light on blackboards with lessons for the day:
\nequations to solve, history to question, or atoms imagined,
\nthe “I have a dream” we keep dreaming,
\nor the impossible vocabulary of sorrow that won’t explain
\nthe empty desks of twenty children marked absent
\ntoday, and forever. Many prayers, but one light
\nbreathing color into stained glass windows,
\nlife into the faces of bronze statues, warmth
\nonto the steps of our museums and park benches
\nas mothers watch children slide into the day.<\/p>\n

One ground. Our ground, rooting us to every stalk
\nof corn, every head of wheat sown by sweat
\nand hands, hands gleaning coal or planting windmills
\nin deserts and hilltops that keep us warm, hands
\ndigging trenches, routing pipes and cables, hands
\nas worn as my father’s cutting sugarcane
\nso my brother and I could have books and shoes.<\/p>\n

The dust of farms and deserts, cities and plains
\nmingled by one wind\u2014our breath. Breathe. Hear it
\nthrough the day’s gorgeous din of honking cabs,
\nbuses launching down avenues, the symphony
\nof footsteps, guitars, and screeching subways,
\nthe unexpected song bird on your clothes line.<\/p>\n

Hear: squeaky playground swings, trains whistling,
\nor whispers across caf\u00e9 tables, Hear: the doors we open
\nfor each other all day, saying: hello, shalom,
\nbuon giorno, howdy, namaste, or buenos d\u00edas
\nin the language my mother taught me\u2014in every language
\nspoken into one wind carrying our lives
\nwithout prejudice, as these words break from my lips.<\/p>\n

One sky: since the Appalachians and Sierras claimed
\ntheir majesty, and the Mississippi and Colorado worked
\ntheir way to the sea. Thank the work of our hands:
\nweaving steel into bridges, finishing one more report
\nfor the boss on time, stitching another wound
\nor uniform, the first brush stroke on a portrait,
\nor the last floor on the Freedom Tower
\njutting into a sky that yields to our resilience.<\/p>\n

One sky, toward which we sometimes lift our eyes
\ntired from work: some days guessing at the weather
\nof our lives, some days giving thanks for a love
\nthat loves you back, sometimes praising a mother
\nwho knew how to give, or forgiving a father
\nwho couldn’t give what you wanted.<\/p>\n

We head home: through the gloss of rain or weight
\nof snow, or the plum blush of dusk, but always\u2014home,
\nalways under one sky, our sky. And always one moon
\nlike a silent drum tapping on every rooftop
\nand every window, of one country\u2014all of us\u2014
\nfacing the stars
\nhope\u2014a new constellation
\nwaiting for us to map it,
\nwaiting for us to name it\u2014together.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Of all the pageantry in yesterday’s presidential inauguration ceremony, engineer-poet Richard Blanco’s contribution most moved me. The delicate interconnectedness of our lives and of all creation. Our shared “now” and the gravity of this moment for future generations. Hope that, like a constellation, dares us to map it and name it. Maybe poetry uniquely can…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":461,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[105],"tags":[1508,1506,1507,1505],"class_list":["post-3657","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-hope","tag-barack-obama-inauguration","tag-inaugural-poet","tag-presidential-inauguration","tag-richard-blanco"],"yoast_head":"\n"One Today" - Fellowship of Saints and Sinners<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/fellowshipofsaintsandsinners\/2013\/01\/one-today.html\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\""One Today" - Fellowship of Saints and Sinners\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Of all the pageantry in yesterday’s presidential inauguration ceremony, engineer-poet Richard Blanco’s contribution most moved me. 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