For some reason, the recent tragic event in Colorado made me think back to this poem that I encountered whilst living in Ukraine. It is displayed in the Chernobyl museum and is about hope rising from the ashes of tragedy.
Even though the ghost-town of Pripyet was off-limits to ILP girls, we were able to visit the Chernobyl memorial museum. There I experienced a small taste of the sorrows of that unforgiving event. I left that museum feeling a strange sense of hope, despite it being such a tragic memory. And for some reason the recent shootings in Colorado made me think back to this poem that was brushed carefully into one of the paintings at that museum. It's long, but worth the read.
"On April 26, 1986, power plant reactor #4
exploded, releasing 250 million curies of radioactive materials into the
environment. It is the deadliest nuclear accident of all time and
the people of Ukraine must still endure the aftermath."
The author of the following poem was profoundly moved by the vulnerable widows
and children I encountered in Pripyet, a town near the "dead zone."
These words are displayed in both English and
Russian at the Chernobyl National Museum:
Uprooted: Mother Ukraine
If a man's thoughts dye his soul
What kind of stain do his deeds leave?
A hazardous spill
On himself and upon the laps of others
Who share the same air
Breathing in and out, in and out
Now, there is bitterness that abounds
In the bread basket to the north
Uprooted family trees, with forgotten people
In yellow photos, dangling down
Wooden cradles set ablaze in the forest
Where blue light sprang from place to place
Luminescent, deadly beautiful
Reminiscent of sparklers
Crackling at a May Day parade
The rain has become hot tears pouring down
Falling down, dropping to the earth
The fragmented rivulets on a musical score
Splash on these paper lives
Fragile and all too brief
The muffled sobbing is a melody
But only to the ears of Him unseen
It's an aria of the heart that sings a Capella
The high pitched notes of pain
Yet, he who suffers speaks a wordless language
That can be understood, although the tongue is mute
It transcends dialects, country lines
And political ideologies...
Uprooted but not alone
I have seen lives irrevocably changed
In one moment in time
From one thoughtless, careless decision
Leaving ancient villages empty
Doors are swinging on squeaky hinges
For all eternity, plus seven years more
And the plastic dolls of stolen youth
Sit on dust covered window panes
Vacantly gazing at the loss...
Uprooted but not alone
Heartbreak and tragedy
Are no respecter of persons, traditions, religions
Or plans
It is blinded by skin color
And the coins in one's purse
I have been told that fear is like rust
That eats away hope, little by little
Corroding all confidence
This invisible acid obliterates desire
Until we are mere shells, with nothing more inside...
Uprooted, but not alone
I believe that love is a salve
To be spread on the wound to heal and soothe
Able to mend the innermost places
That are hidden from man
Faith causes that page to turn
Just because today's sunshine is blocked out by clouds
Doesn't mean the sun is gone
If God seems silent
It doesn't mean He has left us or doesn't hear our cries
Perhaps, we are the ones who aren't listening
To the voice that is gentle and low
Tender and always near
We must be quiet and still, He is here
And anxious to woo us to Him like a lover
He will be revealed once more...
Uprooted but not alone
There is a day that dawns upon all of our broken lives
That we are able to see clearly
If we look with unjaded eyes
That we are all people with ruined dreams
With unrealized plans
Yet, somehow they can fit perfectly into His bigger picture
And become breathtakingly beautiful, in time
Uprooted, but never alone
From these strange ashes
Hope will rise!
(c) Launa
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