I have been reflecting on the travesty of Haiti’s earthquake on January 12, 2010. Wanting to post something in its remembrance, I have come up dry. Frankly, there are just no words to capture all the vivid memories and sounds racing through my mind of that fateful day. I hope, instead, that you will be touched by our son John’s poem that I feel, in some way, may help capture some of the emotions of that day. – Dana
I am thinking of Benjamin, turning
Around in the the airport taxi
To learn my destination,
He’s a Baptist boy come to the city to make a living.
And also Pierre, the taxi dispatcher
Who winks and gives me half the going rate,
A price he says he reserves for those whom
He considers friends.
I am thinking of the city as I last saw it,
The mountains and their mining-scars
Masked by rainclouds
The tin-roof tenements hugging the coastline,
And the church roof that announces “JESUS LOVES YOU”
At the end of the airplane wing
As it turns toward the sea.
I am thinking of all the names and faces, familiar places
Buried now beneath sand and ash and rubble and stone,
The sound on the news of voices crying,
The dazed look in the eyes of children, staggering
In the streets like wounded animals, trailing blood.
And the overwhelming sound of people worshiping
Atop the ruins of their fallen houses,
A sign and a wonder to behold.
I am thinking tonight of the miracle of faith,
The mustard seed that grows into a mighty mountain.
Faith, the evidence of things hoped for, the substance of things not seen,
The miracle of those who, losing the world, are lost to it in return,
Men and women of whom the world is not worthy.
As the television glows, all I can do is think of Benjamin, and Pierre
And the sorrowful, rejoicing sound
That the Beloved of the Lord is lifting up tonight.