“I will not surrender my heart,” the tenderly ferocious poet ire’ne lara silva has said. “I will not surrender my art. My poems and my stories are what I have to give in this world.”
Here, in her invocation for the endangered axolotl — Ambystoma mexicanum, also known as the Mexican walking fish (an amphibian resembling a smiling, translucent salamander) — she praises the intrinsic healing power of beings, a power greater than all governments or public pronouncements. It’s the gentle force of organic, elemental restoration; the song that keeps people singing even when the news grabs them by the throat. [Poem selected by Naomi Shihab Nye, for the NY Times - 12 September 2019]
axolotl
little warrior
almost imperceptibly
scarred
from so much healing
how many regrown limbs
how many repaired organs
even precious
brain tissue
created anew
teach me this
little warrior
how you remain
tender and
infinite
soft and eternal
in the face of struggle
how it is the healing
has already begun
even before the wound
ire'ne lara silva
from so much healing
how many regrown limbs
how many repaired organs
even precious
brain tissue
created anew
teach me this
little warrior
how you remain
tender and
infinite
soft and eternal
in the face of struggle
how it is the healing
has already begun
even before the wound
ire'ne lara silva
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