Marge Piercy: "Rising in Perilous Hope"

What can I hold in my hands this morning

that will not flow through my fingers?

What words can I say that will catch

in your mind like burrs, chiggers that burrow?

If my touch could heal, I would lay my hands

on your bent head and bellow prayers.

If my words could change the weather

or the government or the way the world

twists and guts us, fast or slow,

what could I do but what I do now?

I fit words together and say them;

it is a given like the color of my eyes.

I hope it makes a small difference, as

I hope the drought will break and the morning

come rising out of the ocean wearing

a cloak of clean sweet mist and swirling terns.

"Rising in Perilous Hope" by Marge Piercy, from Colors Passing Through Us. © Alfred A. Knopf, 2004.

Image credit: "My Heart's in My Mouth," watercolor, by P. Maure Bausch (originally color).