It's Wednesday: exactly a week before my next surgery. It is also Broken Mic poetry night. Before my last surgery in November I finally punched my fear in the face and read a
poem I had written for the first time at Broken Mic. I all but ran away from the mic as the last words left my mouth, but after attending Broken Mic regularly for almost a year I was so glad to have finally overcome my fear. I decided a couple weeks ago that reading again before my next surgery would be a good step for me. My Grandfather (Papa) has been in my thoughts more than usual lately as we approach the time of year he passed, and rather than sharing my poetry I will be reading the following poem written by Kim Stafford. Kim Stafford never knew Papa, but awoke from the night to allow these words to paper. This poem makes my heart smile beyond words and not only am I unafraid to read tonight, I am excited. I am excited to continue to recognize, embrace and shatter my fears.
A voice from Marvin Bernards, heard in the night by
Kim Stafford, husband of Perrin, friend of
Margie...February 13, 2005
I may not sound the way you knew me then-
when I was named and walked among you all.
When I was farmer, father, and your friend.
The time has come to whisper in you softly now,
the way I could not tell you then:
"How great thou art," you sang me softly
when you gathered in my name.
I saw you in the chapel bowed and still
when one by one I heard you think for me.
"Then sings my soul, How great thou art."
When alive I thought the barn must open,
the tractor start, and all things hum and roll.
Now I see you all around me toiling.
On the land I call you all to praise:
"How great thou art! Then sings my soul,
How great thou art,"
In the ground our destiny is growing,
from the sky our light comes gold and low.
In your hands my work goes onward singing
"How great thou art." So sings my soul for you:
How great thou art."
