This week’s poem comes from a nonspeaking autistic student-writer who wanted to preface it with this: “To be shared anonymously, as I feel sensitive to sharing who this is about.” We appreciate their discretion and their courage.
I Cried a River Last Night
A friend once asked a question:
How do you think a river
cuts through a mountain?
I wrote back, saying:
The river uses a persistent
force against the mountain
until it makes its first dent.
As time passes, the mountain
softens, allowing more change.
I cried many rivers in the past;
none that softened my father.
It created a mountain
of hardened pain in us.
The pain has been melting aloud,
my past foresights coming true,
my new visions showing me
greener pastures.
I see my paternal grandparents smiling,
my father getting married, my hero
emerging from underneath
his shame.
I am reminded of Uncle Iroh, one of the best teacher characters in the entire world.