This past weekend, I walked the Richmond Slave Trail, a three mile route alongside the James river, from the Manchester Docks to downtown Richmond. It was a spectacular day, sunshine, with temperatures in the 60s - a day to gather together. All along the river, there were many happy people fishing, families and friends of varied ethnicities and skin colors. I couldn't help but feel uplifted.
Except for the history of the place, of course.
Which left me musing about healing...the trauma we inflict on others, how much pain there is in this world and how much pain there has been. Now there are these relentless and horrid scenes from Ukraine - the killing of innocent civilians, the destruction of homes, schools, land, life itself.
Why in the world do we choose cruelty, ever?
How long, how many generations, does it take to get through trauma?
Does one, does a society, ever really get through trauma, with all its insidious future paths?
Does land/place heal faster than people do?
This sad musing led to this poem about my day in Richmond -
Let's Gather at the River
rainbow of families welcoming the river
mothers fathers children in hand
sunhats coolers snacks to go
folding chairs and fishing rods
plenty of sturgeon in the waters below
sun is bright wind is soft life is good here
come let’s gather at the river
the beautiful the beautiful river
anytime, sometime, other time, 1775 to 1865 -
packed up wedged in suffering on the boat
no mother no father no babies no more
day in day out darkness danger desperation
enslaved Africans at the James River
tied together chained shackled miles
walking in a coffle along the river
the beautiful the beautiful river
to the slave market
come let’s gather at the river
the beautiful the beautiful river
how long
to unhear the screams
to unsee the pain
to feel the wrong
to heal
today, 2022 -
rainbow of families welcoming the river
the beautiful, the beautiful river
come let’s gather at the river
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