Praise Song for the Day — Inaugural Poem by Elizabeth Alexander

Rachael Burger
January 20, 2009

[just got this transcript from the new york times website, but it was more or less without line breaks. I’ve put in my own. beautiful poem for a very moving day].

Praise song for the day.

Each day we go about our business,
Walking past each other, catching each others’
Eyes or not, about to speak or speaking.
All about us is noise. All about us is noise
And bramble, thorn and din,
Each one of our ancestors on our tongues.

Someone is stitching up a hem, darning
A hole in a uniform, patching a tire, repairing the things
In need of repair.

Someone is trying to make music somewhere, with
A pair of wooden spoons, on an oil drum, with
Cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.

A woman and her son wait for the bus.
A farmer considers the changing sky.
A teacher says: “Take out your pencils. Begin.”

We encounter each other in words, words spiny or smooth,
Whispered or declaimed. Words to consider, reconsider.
We cross dirt roads and highways that mark the will
Of someone and then others who said:
“I need to see what’s on the other side.
I know there’s something better down the road.”

We need to find a place where we are safe.
We walk into that which we cannot yet see.
Say it plain, that many have died for this day. Sing
The names of the dead who brought us here, who
Laid the train tracks, raised the bridges, picked the cotton
And the lettuce, built brick by brick the glittering edifices
They would then keep clean and work inside of.

Praise song for struggle; praise song for the day.
Praise song for every hand-lettered sign, the
Figuring it out at kitchen tables.

Some live by “Love thy neighbor as thy self.” Others by
First do no harm, or take no more than you need.
What if the mightiest word is love, love beyond
Marital, filial, national. Love that casts a widening
Pool of light. Love with no need to preempt grievance.

In today’s sharp sparkle, this winter air, anything can be made,
Any sentence begun. On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp.
Praise song for walking forward in that light.



Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *