The tiny bit of Earth fell on the back of the Turtle. Almost immediately, it began to grow larger and larger and larger until it became the whole world.
Hotels are tourist stops between here and there,
often on round trips from home, or they are rest places—
lily pads for toads—on hops one way around the earth.
They have necessities like soap, food, and clean sheets.
No lily pads greet refugees and immigrants on their
life-or-
death travels, and few necessities do either. They are turtles
carrying their homes on their backs without the benefit
of shells and without peace to surround their hearts.
Tourist toads and scurrying turtles rarely meet. How could they?
How could tourists enjoy themselves in the face of
despair?
How could refugees stay sane when forced to move on and
on?
The world has gone mad, and morality is too, too dead.
Let country sides and cityscapes everywhere provide
hotels
for the death-and-shell-shocked dispossessed. Let tourists each
pay for one more.
Let residents open their doors. Let’s
provide
clean towels, and accept that survivors are too weary to
be grateful.
In acceptance of these roles, we participate in a new
creation story
with survivors as foundation of life, with trauma healed,
with
honor paid and morality restored, with life saved, and
the symbol
of an open door as a new permeable border between
nations.
Hotels are tourist stops between here and there,
often on round trips from home, or they are rest places—
lily pads for toads—on hops one way around the earth.
They have necessities like soap, food, and clean sheets.
No lily pads greet refugees and immigrants on their
life-or-
death travels, and few necessities do either. They are turtles
carrying their homes on their backs without the benefit
of shells and without peace to surround their hearts.
Tourist toads and scurrying turtles rarely meet. How could they?
How could tourists enjoy themselves in the face of
despair?
How could refugees stay sane when forced to move on and
on?
The world has gone mad, and morality is too, too dead.
Let country sides and cityscapes everywhere provide
hotels
for the death-and-shell-shocked dispossessed. Let tourists each
pay for one more.
Let residents open their doors. Let’s
provide
clean towels, and accept that survivors are too weary to
be grateful.
In acceptance of these roles, we participate in a new
creation story
with survivors as foundation of life, with trauma healed,
with
honor paid and morality restored, with life saved, and
the symbol
of an open door as a new permeable border between
nations.
For Mary's prompt "Hotel" at What's Going On?
My blog poems are rough drafts.
Please respect my copyright.
© 2023 Susan L. Chast
Great poem It's true the toads and turtles don't meet. The gap between the two is huge. Heartbreaking. What a great idea to 'Let tourists each pay for one more' like with pizza for the homeless here. That would surely work!
ReplyDeleteI like the statement that ‘Hotels are tourist stops between here and there’, Susan, a great way to start your poem, and the comparison of tourists as toads and refugees as turtles is apt. These lines stand out for me:
ReplyDelete‘In acceptance of these roles, we participate in a new creation story
with survivors as foundation of life, with trauma healed, with
honor paid and morality restored, with life saved, and the symbol
of an open door as a new permeable border between nations.’
How brilliantly you've used the 'Turtle' image, Susan! Yes we do look forward to "a new creation story". That it happens some day is my constant prayer. Also love the title of the poem.
ReplyDeleteInteresting thoughts. I wish Life was like your dreams and we were not to be left with bankruptcy.
ReplyDeleteSo true that 'tourist toads" seldom meet the "scurrying turtles." They inhabit different worlds, toads seldom seeking out turtles on their journeys. As your poem implies, we need to change that, give aid to the turtles, welcome them....we do indeed need a new creation story, and I wish I could be hopeful. We have come to a dire place where so many doors (to various peoples) seem closed rather than open. This poem is a powerful statement, Susan!
ReplyDeleteWOW! I LOVE this poem - and the idea of the fortunate (anyone who has a roof over their heads) opening their doors to the dispossessed. My favourite line is "accept that survivors are too weary to be grateful." I like the idea of the better-off paying for a hotel for someone who needs it. This latest is really too much to bear on top of everything else. I think the poor turtles have had their shells ripped off, making them even more vulnerable.
ReplyDeleteI like the story you tell in your poem. Or the way you tell it. Somethings I Think About-annell
ReplyDeleteIndeed...so many too many are living the nightmare .....The lucky ones need to give more to alleviate the suffering....Rall
ReplyDeleteIt is truly an unsettled world — and calm is seeming further and further away.
ReplyDelete