Lisa Suhair Majaj Quotes

She took her slice of life
then gave without measuring
or counting

These words are the weight
cupped in our palms:
the small broken note of freedom.

Bless poetry books that cross oceans
in battered envelopes,
bearing small flames of words.

Did my parents know
that what they planted,
roots against the drought,
would survive?

My writing process is generally a bit haphazard. I carry notebooks around to capture ideas, observations, phrases, images, chunks of freewriting. I shift to the computer to do more substantive writing and work on craft issues. I always generate multiple drafts of pieces (keeping all drafts in a separate folder), and often experiment with form in different versions to see what fits the text best.

hopes
for peace: hand clasped in hand
firmer than fist on a gun
or club, hand raised in greeting
stronger than hand raised for violence

Who knew the past would follow us so far,
years collapsing like an ancient accordion,
scraps of memory tucked like torn photographs
into the sockets of our eyes?

No matter how far you've come, remember:
the starting line is always closer than you think.

Part of it hides behind the headlines
where this shard of the story will never be told.

ground resilient beneath our feet, sky
glimmering
between branches of trees older than any of us.

Now we walk out into the tunnel of days
and a million memories rustle

See how we save even the broken bits of pottery,
fitting fragments together
along jagged lines to remember you

so I hoard memories
sort them for seeds to plant
pray they root

We learned to let our faces hide
our selves, to speak our story in a private
tongue, the past a shadow in our bones.

The sun will rise again tomorrow,
vigilant and weary as hope.