Poem: "When We Reach the Edge"
- mmswofford
- Jun 18, 2021
- 2 min read
Updated: Aug 5, 2022
I had the pleasure of writing this spoken word poem for Gordon College's 2021 Day of Giving! A fantastic team of artists and cinematographers created an incredible video featuring the video that you can watch here. That said, I know some people prefer to read poems so you can admire the nuance of language, undistracted by visual elements. So here's the poem in it's full written form. Enjoy!
When We Reach the Edge
by Maggie Swofford
i.
When I push off the edge,
how do I move?
How do I soothe
my rattling heart?
How do I trust my saving grace
to calm the waves,
create a safe place
for me within the fray?
I know how to hold
a pen, but to mold
my open mind
takes courage.
I want to know
that I can make it.
I want to know
that I can stay awake in
the discussions, dissections,
endless instructions.
Because the truth is,
now more than ever,
the most important matter
is not what I think I know,
but what I need to learn
in order to truly grow.
ii.
The first swoosh against the water,
the first sputter on a silent stage,
pushes away, paves a new way.
We abandon our old selves—
our stereotypes, our pride—
in favor of learning: to walk, to glide
on the surface of the water
into the wilds.
In between the smiles,
the moments of connection,
and an abundance of grief-filled isolation,
we soar toward the future.
Because our minds are eager
to bear fruit, swear the truth.
We know that we must root
ourselves in our intuition:
In seasons of failure or fruition,
who we are becoming
will exceed who we’ve become.
We can only learn
if we truly look;
if we merely took
the time to observe
the world, the catastrophes
of friends and colleagues,
and asked ourselves:
do you know them?
Do you hear them?
iii.
Listen
to the bubbling water sparking.
Listen
to the pens scraping and shaping the paper.
Listen
to your friend, student, and neighbor.
We are bound to arrive
at each other’s side,
cry out and fight out
in search of justice,
aright ourselves
to righteousness:
the center of the stage,
the center of our lake.
Walk,
if we can learn how,
on water
toward him and our great sages
who have taught us, crumbled us,
made us grumble,
made our stomachs rumble
for what their words
slaughtered and offered:
Fear. Ignorance.
Ideas. Ideals. Hope.
Hope is in the water
around us,
healing us,
sealing us off
from all directions
except our current course.
For we know our savior’s current
is always pushing us.
If we go
and follow,
we will grow
and grow
and grow.
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