a cathedral of septembers

 

 

The Names

Billy Collins

Yesterday, I lay awake in the palm of the night.
A soft rain stole in, unhelped by any breeze,
And when I saw the silver glaze on the windows,
I started with A, with Ackerman, as it happened,
Then Baxter and Calabro,
Davis and Eberling, names falling into place
As droplets fell through the dark.
Names printed on the ceiling of the night.
Names slipping around a watery bend.
Twenty-six willows on the banks of a stream.
In the morning, I walked out barefoot
Among thousands of flowers
Heavy with dew like the eyes of tears,
And each had a name --
Fiori inscribed on a yellow petal
Then Gonzalez and Han, Ishikawa and Jenkins.
Names written in the air
And stitched into the cloth of the day.
A name under a photograph taped to a mailbox.
Monogram on a torn shirt,
I see you spelled out on storefront windows
And on the bright unfurled awnings of this city.
I say the syllables as I turn a corner --
Kelly and Lee,
Medina, Nardella, and O'Connor.
When I peer into the woods,
I see a thick tangle where letters are hidden
As in a puzzle concocted for children.
Parker and Quigley in the twigs of an ash,
Rizzo, Schubert, Torres, and Upton,
Secrets in the boughs of an ancient maple.
Names written in the pale sky.
Names rising in the updraft amid buildings.
Names silent in stone
Or cried out behind a door.
Names blown over the earth and out to sea.
In the evening -- weakening light, the last swallows.
A boy on a lake lifts his oars.
A woman by a window puts a match to a candle,
And the names are outlined on the rose clouds --
Vanacore and Wallace,
(let X stand, if it can, for the ones unfound)
Then Young and Ziminsky, the final jolt of Z.
Names etched on the head of a pin.
One name spanning a bridge, another undergoing a tunnel.
A blue name needled into the skin.
Names of citizens, workers, mothers and fathers,
The bright-eyed daughter, the quick son.
Alphabet of names in a green field.
Names in the small tracks of birds.
Names lifted from a hat
Or balanced on the tip of the tongue.
Names wheeled into the dim warehouse of memory.
So many names, there is barely room on the walls of the heart.

 

 

dear postcards from paradise,

today, a day of remembering, i hesitated placing a call out for paradise

yet have slowly reconsidered,

knowing the power of coming together through all life's events to be of great healing.

may our offerings here be a concert of hope,

a time of honoring,

a call for peace.

Comments

[Stephanie]

Thank you for sharing the entire poem here.

[gemma]

Too many names...

[deb taylor]

this is amazing.
Thank you
...too,too many

[Noelle]

rebecca,
It is a deeply moving poem by Billy Collins. He is one of my favorite poets and here he has created a memorial in words greater than any structure imaginable. Thank you so much for sharing the poem and this beautiful image.
Love and Peace,
Noelle

[Sue Fox]

Thank you for bowing to the cathedral of words in this poem and stretching them out before us, your humility and respect for others is a beautiful adornment to you.

Sue x

[Noelle]

Thank you Rebecca. I had originally tried to link it and did so again.
Much Love and Peace,
Noelle

[gloria]

In our lifetimes, this we shall never forget. God Bless Them All and God Bless Us.

[Georgene Lockwood]

The most touching post on the subject I have read all day. Thank you, Rebecca.

[Fran aka Redondowriter]

One of my favorite poets and this is a deeply moving poem. I will post a friend's painting tonight, but have not had the heart to watch TV the past few days. I will not forget but I am not strong enough to once again watch the scenes we watched 10 years ago over and over.

[Elizabeth]

I had never read this particular poem of Collins. How beautiful and perfect for this day. Thank you for posting it and, as always, for your gentleness and kindness.

[Sarah]

What a beautiful and sensitive post Rebecca. x

[leslie]

i never read that poem before. i think it is one of the most beautiful things i've ever read about that day. thank you.

[Lynne Phelps]

This poem really moved me. I linked an art journal page I completed on 9/11/2011. I still remember the day it happened. I was at work in a 50-story skyscraper in New Orleans. A friend called and said, get out of there! If they come to New Orleans it is your building they will hit! I said what are you talking about and she said find a TV. We all watched in horror in the conference room. Not one face without tears. Just the beginning. . . .

[Susie Clevenger]

This is so beautiful. It goes straight to my heart..there are so many names written on the stones in my memory garden.