Poem of the Month: November 2004

If you don't know the kind of person I am
and I don't know the kind of person you are
a pattern that others made may prevail in the world
and following the wrong god home we may miss our star.

For there is many a small betrayal in the mind,
a shrug that lets the fragile sequence break
sending with shouts the horrible errors of childhood
storming out to play through the broken dyke.

And as elephants parade holding each elephant's tail,
but if one wanders the circus won't find the park,
I call it cruel and maybe the root of all cruelty
to know what occurs but not recognize the fact.

And so I appeal to a voice, to something shadowy,
a remote important region in all who talk:
though we could fool each other, we should consider—
lest the parade of our mutual life get lost in the dark.

For it is important that awake people be awake,
or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep;
the signals we give - yes or no, or maybe—
should be clear: the darkness around us is deep.

- William Stafford

Journal prompts:

• What "kind of person" are you?  Who is your truest, most authentic self?
  
  
• Make a list of the "wrong gods" you have "followed home." Which of these are still active in your life? What were some of the life lessons you learned along the way?
  
  
• In this presidential election month, we see a country painfully divided along ideological lines. How can this poem offer a window into healing our divisiveness? How can you reach out and "know the kind of person" someone is who does not think like you think?
  
  
• The title of this poem is an imperative: William Stafford tells us the poem is a ritual, and we are to read it to each other. Forward this poem to another person, one who does or does not "know the kind of person" you are (and vice versa), and initiate a dialogue about something that matters to you.