Why Poetry Matters Today: Reflections on Complaint of El Río Grande
View from my driveway — Fall calls us to presence. Its beauty is fleeting, but that is part of its medicine.
Include Long Tail Key word - H2
Complaint of El Río Grande
For Aylin Barbieri
By Richard Blanco, published in How To Love a Country (2019)
I was meant for all things to meet:
to make the clouds pause in the mirror
of my waters, to be home to fallen rain
that finds its way to me, to turn eons
of loveless rock into lovesick pebbles
and carry them as humble gifts back
to the sea which brings life back to me.I felt the sun flare, praised each star
flocked about the moon long before
you did. I’ve breathed air you’ll never
breathe, listened to songbirds before
you could speak their names, before
you dug your oars in me, before you
created the gods that created you.Then countries—your invention—maps
jigsawing the world into colored shapes
caged in bold lines to say: you’re here,
not there, you’re this, not that, to say:
yellow isn’t red, red isn’t black, black is
not white, to say: mine, not ours, to say
war, and believe life’s worth is relative.You named me big river, drew me—blue,
thick to divide, to say: spic and Yankee,
to say: wetback and gringo. You split me
in two—half of me us, the rest them. But
I wasn’t meant to drown children, hear
mothers’ cries, never meant to be your
geography: a line, a border, a murderer.I was meant for all things to meet:
the mirrored clouds and sun’s tingle,
birdsongs and the quiet moon, the wind
and its dust, the rush of mountain rain—
and us. Blood that runs in you is water
flowing in me, both life, the truth we
know we know: be one in one another.
Poetry as a Bridge Across Borders
I began Wednesday’s class with a poem about borders and humanity — Richard Blanco’s Complaint of El Río Grande — alongside “Declaration of Inter-dependence,” which I’ve shared here before.
After I finished the reading — after the more usual than not disruptive and disrupting start — all was calm. Centered. Quiet.
And my sense was that we were more one community than we had been a few minutes prior.
Why Poetry Still Matters Today
We need our poets now more than ever.
If you have the means, buy their books — and not on Amazon.
Order them through your local bookstore or bookshop.com.
Let go of urgency and scarcity.
Make your purchase a prayer.
Then be nourished by the gift of those who walk between worlds and share golden nectar and heart wisdom with us.
Some of my favorite poets include Ross Gay (his poetic essays especially), Layli Long Soldier, the late Langston Hughes, and the recently late Andrea Gibson, about whom a film — Come See Me in the Good Light — was made. (Glennon Doyle and Abby Wambach were two of the producers.)
It’s now available on Apple TV.
I’ve been waiting months for it to come out and plan to watch it this weekend.
Sending you all the love.
Here’s to thriving and equity.
And to the poets.
Deb
Reflection: Why Poetry Still Matters
Q: How can poetry help us feel connected again?
A: Poetry names what our nervous systems already know — that belonging and beauty are forms of resistance.
Q: Why does reading poetry matter in hard times?
A: Because poetry interrupts urgency and reminds us that presence itself can heal and sustain collective action.
If you’d like to explore how reflection and action intertwine, learn more about my coaching here.