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Angel Wings

Angel Wings
by Nailah-Imani Pierce ’18


And even as the preacher fell
Men and women with clasped hands knit together to make angel wings
Marched into the streets
Chanting into one song the joyful sound of good news.
 
I have seven news apps on my phone.
Holy number, to ward off all the bad omens.
Two that give me summaries
Snapshots of the world as though peering into the windows of a home
And seeing a woman crying without knowing any of the details.
I have NPR because I'm a good New England liberal
That still has their Obama 2008 sticker visible
Which says, "Yes we can!"
Man, we really had hope back then
Ten years later we're still trying to make America great again
But the vision is divided
Tears coming down separate sides of two cheeks
On the same face
Of a woman you saw through a window without knowing
Any of the details
Amazing how we all feel
Pain in the same space
But we can't see each other over our barriers
Taking each other at face value
Eyes crossed trying to look into each other
To gain access to a shared soul
Until everything gets blurry, and confusing, and painful
So, we just stare straight ahead and go in the direction we always went.
And ain't it shameful, but that's why I have UN news too
To remind myself the natural reaction to tragedy
Is to come together
To weave your fingers with another
Like roots tangled amongst each other
Digging deep in a shared strength in the hope of holy water.
I have Ted Talks so I'm always up to date
With ideas worth spreading to an intellectual congregate
I wonder when tolerance and acceptance won't be controversial topics
When love won't need slide shows and bullet points to show its merits.
Finally, I have two news apps that deal with economics
Because we all know money makes the world go round
If only there was a price tag on peace
Because it seems like hatred has been on sale since 2016
People behind screen been digging through one another
Like items on clearance
Clearing space between each other to dictate
Each other's value
Like your politics, ethnicity, or socio-economic status
Decide your right to narrate your experience.
As a community, it seems we've decided
The lighter your skin the more transparent your story is
But I thought the diversity and inclusion initiative
Was about hearing all of the voices.
Like when's the last time the Asian community entered the conversation
Without it being something we can stick chopsticks into
As if they aren't an integral part of the circle too
More than lo mien on the dining hall menu.
And I find it strange how rarely our Latino brothers and sisters are spoken of
Because Spanish is this country's third most common mother tongue
After – in this order – xenophobia and English only
But there is no building a wall big enough to cut people off from our nation's story.
And this poem is not long enough to speak of all our country's colors
But I've seen them like a promise on the horizon
Its arc bending towards justice
Or maybe just us recognizing ourselves as allies – not enemies or separate entities.
But if we keep holding our backgrounds against each other
Instead of having each other's backs
Holding our shared humanity together
We fail to hear the sound of good news.
I have no interest in preaching the black man's struggle
I am just a black girl struggling to having a conversation.
I don’t know if I'm speaking, reaching anyone
Or if this poem is just a prayer, a vestige of hope thrown into the atmosphere
And I fear that we – this nation – will continue resenting each other
That we have not loved with our whole heart, nor loved our neighbor.
That the headlines of Fox and CNN are true
That the preacher came and went and could not heal history's wounds.
But here is the good news
I am no preacher, I am a black girl
And though we struggle, we are having a conversation
So I ask that we come with hearts full of reconciliation.
That we look into the windows of each other's eyes
And get to know the details of our souls
Because we are our sole saviors - praising the goodness of another
So speak to each other with so much forgiveness on your tongue
That even if you spit it would water the earth in love
Because that's the only way things are gonna grow
That’s the only way things are gonna change
If you take someone's hands, and make angel wings.
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