Monday, 15 October 2012

For Malala, shortly after the shooting

I will not imagine you
in bed, your head
bandaged, a machine
to help you breathe –

I’ll hear instead
your unaided breath
in all the recitations,
of scripts of alphabet,

in the study of a cell
and the poems of Pakistan –

and more than simply sound,
I’ll see you stand once more,
unafraid, unhindered,
amid the seas of every girl
who writes in chalk
and pencil crayon,
then pen and type of keys,

in the bloom of every woman
invoking your name
and kindred spirit,

saying I will surely learn
and make our land and people better,
mend our many wounds,
search the clues for cures
for all that ails us;
become the first, at last,
to find them.

Andreas Gripp