At a Lost for Words (Poem)
A poem regarding the impacts of the derecho that spread across Iowa on August 10, 2020.
A drum beat of voices
At a loss for words
A chorus of noises
There are no words
I watch it all with baffled indignation
Where are their voices?
Where is the nation?
I search for answers
Removed from it all
I am adrift
I am appalled
A drumbeat of voices
At a loss for words
A chorus of noises
Silence is a verb
What comes next? Surely there is more
Too much at stake
Pandemic, racism, destruction and war
I am safe but I am not immune
Peace is still a prayer
When their suffering is my boon
A drumbeat of voices
At a loss for words
A chorus of noises
They remain unheard
I seek answers from our politicians
To busy with other repairs
Leave us in deplorable conditions
I come up empty in the hands of many
Starved, only offering prayers
Too many beggars in a land of plenty
A drum beat of voices
At a loss for words
A chorus of voices
At a loss for words
Derecho Reflections
Winds of up to 112 miles per hour whipped through Iowan Cities on Monday. This has been called a “derecho,” a term unfamiliar to most. The devastation left Iowans without power, internet or answers. Others have been displaced, and their homes and vehicles are destroyed.
Though many speak of the pillars of the community offering generous support, others fear those in need outweigh those with help to offer. People’s livelihoods, already tenuous due to Covid-19 are at stake. Schools have also postponed reopening as many buildings have been destroyed.
Additionally, crops have been damaged at such a level of severity, the destruction may be viewed from space. The long-term effects of this damage remain unknown. Yet, I expect with Iowa being a large producer of ethanol, feed for livestock, and grains we will see a shortage of necessary supplies and prices on the rise.
Collective Trauma
The magnitude of this storm also speaks to the changing climate. It seems everywhere I look there is a new disaster taking place. Additionally, as a trauma therapist, I remain aware of the way repeated disasters impact the psyche, physiology and mental health of us all.
The mind needs times of rest, recovery and repair much like the body. Collectively, we have not yet rested from the pandemic, the murder of George Floyd, and the ripple effects that had on our society. Headlines appear daily insinuating mass destruction of our planet.
I cannot seem to escape the headlines. They permeate my life now. We cannot filter our lives. We can only grow numb. Yet, I do not seek to discard the pain, suffering and oppression of any beings on this earth. Where does that leave me?
Personal Healing
I write. I write my feelings into words and hope they catch. They take form in letters, blogs and articles the same way a child sends pennies into a wishing well. These words are for you to help you remember what is important. Rest when it is needed. Ask for help when it is all you can do. Help, when you can.
I am gathering voices like wildflowers to place in a bouquet. Let us inspect them, learn from them, and find hope within them. To those who have who have something to give: share it with those who have nothing. Let us always begin with a desire to understand, love without barriers, and to eradicate the suffering of others.
Publications:
For pieces I have published on this topic please visit Iowa Source and The Gazette. You can also find them listed in my portfolio.