Kent Leatham

Non-Negotiables

“When you discover something in life that causes pain, that is non-negotiable for you, then you have found something to write about.” —James Cone, Union Theological Seminary, March 2005

Beloved,

You ask what causes me pain,

what curls up in my heart each night

and cries itself to sleep.

You ask why I do not let myself dance.

You ask why I weep.

I weep because if there was a gun in this poem,

someone would take it.

I weep because if this poem was a pair of boots,

someone would hide their beautiful feet.

I weep for the people who think

the dead cannot be broken

or the living bent.

I weep for the people who do not care,

for the people who never see

the stars and the burned-out shells of stars

that hide in the eyes of their friends.

I weep for the people who have no friends.

I weep for the people who have not made love,

who are not allowed to make love,

for the people who consider love

a check to cash or bill to pay.

I weep for the people who fear

and who paint their faces to hide

the scars of being feared,

for the people who have taken

their questions out of water for so long

they have shriveled into answers.

I weep for the answers people carry

like stones or dirty tissues in their pockets.

I weep for the people who have no pockets,

for the people who have no hands.

I weep for the woman in the Alzheimer’s home

who thinks each day is Christmas

but the rest of the world has forgotten;

for the blind man at the side of the road

whose life is a barbed-wire fence

that only his hands can follow;

for the child who is told

God is a father

and wonders if he’ll ever come home

and if he’ll bring a present

or a belt.

I weep for the gods people create

like paper boats or fishing hooks.

I weep for the Irish poet who said

“The bravest thing we can do is wait

to be found by the Divine”

and spent his life on a mountaintop

of unopened days and impotent prayers.

I weep for the churches

and for the termites in their walls,

for the people who have forgotten

how to place words like bread

lovingly onto each other’s tongues.

I weep for the people who have no tongues.

Beloved,

I weep and I hope my tears will cause

one person to build an ark

with room enough to save the world

a dance.