emily dickinson. the poet. who wrote wonderfully, prodigiously, and whose writing was virtually unknown at her death. had not a surviving sister found her poetry bound in ribbons, we should not know her work, her soul.
xvi.
to fight aloud is very brave, but gallanter, i know,
who charge within the bosom, the cavalry of woe.
who win, and nations do not see, who fall, and none observe,
whose dying eyes no country regards with patriot love.
we trust, in plumed procession, for such the angels go,
rank after rank, with even feet and uniforms of snow.
emily dickinson, the collected poems, barnes and noble classics, new york 2003.
hat tip to carolyn e., who emailed the story of meriam ibrahim to me. thank you, carolyn, for your faith and, devotion to it.
meriam ibrahim. who would not renounce her faith. who chose death rather than do so. as martyr to her faith, alone and unknown by the world. her death remarked upon by silence, recognized only by rank upon rank of plumed angels. none would have seen her dying eyes. none would have known.
except for a husband who would not accept this, and friends who risked all to protest and demand her freedom, and a world whose attention was drawn to her plight by their indefatigable courage and witness. they garnered the attention of a church that sometimes does not see, and the commitment of politicians who had nothing to gain, except their own self respect and faith.
an unlikely constellation of forces.
her courage fired and forged courage in others. in the words of the poet, she charged her doom with bared bosom, and swelled the chests of a world far too often numb to such plight.
miracle. nothing less.
there can be no other way to put it, a miracle brought about by the quiet undaunted courage of an alone woman, chained in a dungeon, in whose bosom, to use the word of the poet, burned an unquenchable courage and faith.
miracle. nothing less.
you may read about it here,
friends:
i wrote this post almost two years ago, and had quite forgotten about it, until i noticed a "hit" at my blog.
from curiosity, i came to read again what i had written.
i must say, it is good post. and, not one single comment. not from my brother. not from friends. *sigh*
it kind of hurts, to labor in almost total obscurity. (i read the other day that drudge had 38,000,000 hits in one day!!) but, if that is ones lot, (not to be drudge) that is ones lot.
maybe if i rename the blog, "trudge." laughing. what do you, imagined (and unlikely reader) think?
john jay
Posted by: john jay | February 21, 2017 at 08:33 PM