At a recent global meet, a session cut through the usual conference optimism with a stark warning: the global AIDS response is being hit by a coord
A Poem: A Conversation By Dr. Stephen Gill
A CONVERSATION
I asked my conscience
if it had perceived
in the eyes of humankind
the unshed tears
of hurt and humiliation.
A touch of scorn in its silence
nettled me to ask
if it had ever heard
the bricks of my cries
falling on the blades
of the environment of repression.
The lull
which descends upon a graveyard
under the sheet of a frozen night
pricked me on once more to know
if it has power to predict
that memorable knock
which would awake the mind
to alter history
caught at the honeycombed crossroads
of long journeys of violations.
The constant strikes
at the wounded nerve
stirred the body of conscience
in the sanctuary where it dozed
like the indifferent gods
on high mountains.
Its trembling lips
were an ocean of truth
which revealed to me that
conscience is blessed
with everything,
except words.
--Stephen Gill, Canada
==========================
---------------------------------------------
StephenGill, a multiple award-winning Indo/Canadian self-exiled poet, fiction writer, and essayist, has authored more than thirty books. He is the subject of doctoral dissertations and thirteen books of critical studies have been released. The focus of his writing is live and let live. Available For: writer or poet in residence.
WEBSITES: www.stephengill.ca & stephengillcriticism.info (stephengillgazette@gmail.com)
I asked my conscience
if it had perceived
in the eyes of humankind
the unshed tears
of hurt and humiliation.
A touch of scorn in its silence
nettled me to ask
if it had ever heard
the bricks of my cries
falling on the blades
of the environment of repression.
The lull
which descends upon a graveyard
under the sheet of a frozen night
pricked me on once more to know
if it has power to predict
that memorable knock
which would awake the mind
to alter history
caught at the honeycombed crossroads
of long journeys of violations.
The constant strikes
at the wounded nerve
stirred the body of conscience
in the sanctuary where it dozed
like the indifferent gods
on high mountains.
Its trembling lips
were an ocean of truth
which revealed to me that
conscience is blessed
with everything,
except words.
--Stephen Gill, Canada
==========================
---------------------------------------------
StephenGill, a multiple award-winning Indo/Canadian self-exiled poet, fiction writer, and essayist, has authored more than thirty books. He is the subject of doctoral dissertations and thirteen books of critical studies have been released. The focus of his writing is live and let live. Available For: writer or poet in residence.
WEBSITES: www.stephengill.ca & stephengillcriticism.info (stephengillgazette@gmail.com)
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