A Poem... a Note... by Joy Harjo

A note to the actor in me:


You were there before I could speak

You were all the permutations of yes and no

You were the front door, the back door, and the place in the middle where the soul stands naked

You told the truth before it could be spoken

You spoke before there were words

You let me in when I asked you to open the doorI had to first ask

The heart stepped through first

All the rest of me followed: wind, elbows, lips, feet, a pool of sunlight before language, a sky of black peopled by stars, the awkward next to awesome grace

Here we are againBack to the beginning of the urgent urge, to the first spark

We noticed it, spoke it, and became it.

We are.