Our Crowd-Sourced Poem

Now I See My Life with New Eyes

A crowdsourced poem by Serena Agusto-Cox, Dean Blehert, Stanley Chin, Tori L. Collins, Darryl Denning, Mark Fishbein, Lucy Gettman, Chris Haley, Donald Illich, Katie Irish, Monica Masiello, Keith David Parsons, P.S. Perkins, Kim Roberts, Heather Schoell, L.B. Sedlacek, and Mary Sesso.

Arranged by Jonathan Lewis

Now I see my life with new eyes,
after winter dug a ditch in my days.
I was stuck until pulled out by the yellow
of forsythia and the gold of dandelions.
I catch a thread of light. 

Now I see my life with new eyes,
where Spring on the Hill brings
cherry blossoms to bloom.

But this year, any pleasure found
in their beauty is steadied by guilt
from police violence, COVID sickness,
and overall gloom.  

Now I see my life with new eyes,
where we had before worn
pleasure in our smiles, today
we wear it masked.

Family members survive,
friends of friends gone,
masks, distance, isolation,
eyes still wide open. 

Now I see my life with new eyes,
new eyes that rage
at injustice that can’t be remedied,
at so many families broken and in crisis.
Always we must beg forgiveness
for surviving in the charnel house, for being
the ones to sort bones back to names. 

Now I see my life with new eyes,
new eyes that dampen
at the killing of people too brown
to be protected and served like I am.
It is too easy to claim the eyes of the dead.
The eyes of George Floyd.
I don’t hear, taste, touch, smell or see everything.
How dare I pretend to? 

Now I see my life with new eyes,
no longer filtering out the gray,
only wanting to see in black and white.
Yes, now is different, unlike before,
as more people understand and act,
if they could keep on keeping on
with all the dirt the earth
has muddied under them,
turning sighs to human power. 

Now I see my life with new eyes,
the eyeballs I stole from the neighbor
who sunbathed in his backyard, sleeping,
and will hardly notice they’re gone.
This day I will not think about tomorrow.
I will delight in all that exists around me.
I am free to choose my path,
and leave the one I’m on.  

Now: to see my life
I close my eyes and let my fingers
read the braille of your hips,
rising like a dune.
Leaving the east for the west,
bringing me closer to the sky. 

Now I breathe in with new lungs,
a trip to the drugstore feels like a vacation,
a handshake is a hug.
It’s not freedom, but I’ll have people
to talk to and touch, laughter
I can share, fingers and toes to count. 

I see reality with new eyes –
airplanes and skyscrapers!
An apple peel curls around my hand,
touch like skin on skin. My daughter smiles,
leans into me, eager for a bite.
Your hand, reaching for mine:
A miracle.

Announcement

The historic events of the past year have brought monumental change to communities across the nation and the world, motivating many of us to examine our lives in ways we hadn’t before fathomed. At times like these, literature, music, and other art forms can help light our way.

Inspired by NPR’s poetry call-out series, we invite you to help us create a community-authored poem for this year’s Literary Hill BookFest, relying on themes of disruption, reflection, and renewal. Please use the following as your opening line: “Now I see my life with new eyes…”

Submit your completed verse to … by Wednesday, April 28. The final poem will be crafted from your submissions by Jonathan Lewis, award-winning author of Babel On and host of our virtual “Poetry on the Patio.” Join us for the BookFest on May 2 at 11:00 am for our complete program, including the first public reading of the final poem.

Terms

By providing your Submission to us, you agree that you have read, understand and accept the following terms in relation to the content and information (your “Submission”) you are providing to the Literary Hill BookFest (“BookFest,” “us,” or “our”):

You are submitting content pursuant to a request on our website wherein we will create unique poetry based on your submissions. You understand that you are submitting content for the purpose of having Jonathan Lewis use that content to create a new poem or poems (“Poem”) with the material you submit. You must be 18 or older to submit material.

You will retain copyright in your Submission, but agree that BookFest and/or Jonathan Lewis may edit, modify, use, excerpt, publish, adapt or otherwise make derivative works from your Submission and use your Submission or derivative works in whole or in part in any media or format and/or use the Submission or Poem for journalistic and/or promotional purposes generally, and may allow others to do so. You understand that the Poem created by Jonathan Lewis will be a new creative work and may be distributed through BookFest’s website and social media (or other media), and the Poem can be separately subject to copyright protection. Your Submission does not plagiarize or otherwise infringe any third party copyright, moral rights, or any other intellectual property rights or similar rights. You have not copied any part of your Submission from another source. If your Submission is selected for inclusion in the Poem, you will be acknowledged in a list of contributors on our website or otherwise receive appropriate credit, but failure to do so shall not be deemed a breach of your rights.

Photo by Alvaro Serrano/Unsplash