Zion hears
the watchers singing,
her tender heart with joy is springing,
she is awake, and she rises to her feet. J.S. Bach Cantata 120
her tender heart with joy is springing,
she is awake, and she rises to her feet. J.S. Bach Cantata 120
You can’t go
along a watchtower. Dave Van Ronk
When my daughters were old enough to go out in the evening,
I always watched up for them,
which annoyed them, because it implied I lacked confidence
that they could get home all right on their own.
I always watched up for them,
which annoyed them, because it implied I lacked confidence
that they could get home all right on their own.
I was worried and angry when they were late,
but when they did arrive home
(as they never once failed to do),
I was relieved and happy, and did not reproach them.
but when they did arrive home
(as they never once failed to do),
I was relieved and happy, and did not reproach them.
That’s what watching
was for me,
and now I don’t worry
only because they live elsewhere,
and I don’t know when they go out.
and now I don’t worry
only because they live elsewhere,
and I don’t know when they go out.
But even if I have a friend my daughters’ age—
thirty or so—
I worry when they travel, and I wait and watch
until I know they’ve arrived,
thirty or so—
I worry when they travel, and I wait and watch
until I know they’ve arrived,
and, really, I never do know:
anything could happen to them,
or to either of my daughters,
at any time.
anything could happen to them,
or to either of my daughters,
at any time.
When my older daughter was nineteen, she studied
in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania for a semester. It was
almost before the cell phone era. We spent hundreds
at REI on equipment she never used.
in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania for a semester. It was
almost before the cell phone era. We spent hundreds
at REI on equipment she never used.
We didn’t worry much, because we never heard anything,
but then one evening, we got a call
that, on a spring-break trip to Mwansa near Lake Victoria,
she and three other women were attacked
but then one evening, we got a call
that, on a spring-break trip to Mwansa near Lake Victoria,
she and three other women were attacked
by a gang of men with machetes.
One’s hands were badly mauled when she put them up
to try to defend against the knifes.
Another was also badly cut.
One’s hands were badly mauled when she put them up
to try to defend against the knifes.
Another was also badly cut.
My daughter received a bruise on her wrist
from the flat of a machete blade wielded by a man
trying to get her to let go of her purse strap,
which she did.
from the flat of a machete blade wielded by a man
trying to get her to let go of her purse strap,
which she did.
And I am so proud of her,
because, as a rape counsellor, she had trained other girls
to scream when attacked,
and she screamed and screamed with all her might,
because, as a rape counsellor, she had trained other girls
to scream when attacked,
and she screamed and screamed with all her might,
bringing an angel cab driver to the scene,
scaring away the machete men—
who were probably hopped up on drugs,
and not well-organized.
scaring away the machete men—
who were probably hopped up on drugs,
and not well-organized.
My daughter took charge and convinced her injured friends
they had no choice but to get into that cab and be driven
to the police station—then to the hospital, where they insisted
on verifying the packaging on syringes before they were used—
they had no choice but to get into that cab and be driven
to the police station—then to the hospital, where they insisted
on verifying the packaging on syringes before they were used—
And while all of this was happening, I wasn’t worried at all,
because I had stopped watching.
And who is watching over them now?
Poems for Advent 2017
because I had stopped watching.
And who is watching over them now?
Poems for Advent 2017
