I found this article online at the Sojourner’s web site. It is called: Can Poems Push Christians to Stop the Suffering in Gaza? The article is written by Ryan Duncan.

The article discusses a book of poetry and its author and what this use of art does. You might say, when we read this we are discussing the power of language and in particular, the power of poetic language.

Below is a link to the story and a short but effective quote.

https://sojo.net/articles/opinion/can-poems-push-christians-stop-suffering-gaza

After reading Forest of Noise, it becomes apparent why Abu Toha’s public appearances are often marked by moments of sorrow and anger. In one MSNBC interview following his Pulitzer win, Abu Toha fell into a tense back-and-forth with journalist Catherine Rampell when she pointed to some of his social media posts and suggested he was questioning the status of Israeli hostages taken by Hamas.

“I’ve never denied anyone’s suffering,” Abu Toha remarked sharply, “I know that everyone is suffering, Israelis and Palestinians, but why are our sufferings not acknowledged? Why are we called terrorists? Why are we called prisoners of war while the Israelis who were kidnapped from Israel are named hostages? Does this give them more humanity, because they are Israeli, while my loved ones are being named prisoners and they are tortured?”

Why indeed. 

It’s a pretty piece of writing and I hope you read the whole article.

Now for my take on this.

We live in a period in the United States where words have been weaponized. Our current regime’s leader will reach thirty thousand documented lies in just a week or so. In addition, he has made insults a standard part of his particular brand. He likes “Low IQ,” “Communist,” Marxist”, etc. His pitiful flock hangs on every insult, every lie and every appeal to their lowest and most base instincts like hogs wallowing in mud and excrement squealing in delight.

But words don’t have to be evil and wretched to have power. How about these:

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

“By sun and candle-light” is a very pretty little phrase. Words can exalt. Words can heal. And yes, words can heal and guide us.

Let’s try some healing works from history. This is Lincoln’s first inaugural address.

I am loath to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.

Good words. Our current’s regime’s leader is incapable of forming those kinds of sentences, of attempting to unite the American people in love and common purpose.

But we can work to make this a united and great nation in spite of our lack of competent, intelligent and spiritual leadership. We can find our own words. America is full of great words and great thoughts.

Try these:

I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong,
The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work,
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck,
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands,
The wood-cutter’s song, the ploughboy’s on his way in the morning, or at noon intermission or at sundown,
The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of the girl sewing or washing,
Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else,
The day what belongs to the day—at night the party of young fellows, robust, friendly,
Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs.

Even before this current set of horrors we must endure end and even before our suffering is assuaged, we can still find the great and healing words here in America, in many ways more of a dream and an aspiration.

Let us remember what we are as a nation in our highest and strongest longing.

James Alan Pilant