Infirm
Everybody here
Is infirm.
Everybody here is infirm.
Oh. Mend me. Mend me. Lord.
Today I
Say to them
Say to them say to them, Lord:
Look! I am beautiful, beautiful with
My wing that is wounded
My eye that is bonded
Or my ear not funded
Or my walk all a-wobble
I’m enough to be beautiful.
You are
beautiful too.
Gwendolyn Brooks
The poet Gwendolyn Brooks
with a stroke of her pen
asserts our commonality
and dispels
this binding enchantment
drenched in the shame
that harms
any intimate connection
We come together somehow
with our wobble walk and funded ear
no longer disinherited from our splendor.
When a patients comes to me distraught with this antagonistic collision self regard and self disgust in avid competition …. I search for their beauty
and it is always there often quiet hesitant
A wing folded over it for protection
Reminding me of the gentle course that must be taken.