December 30, 2012: Cloudy Day

INTRO:

Abandoned by his parents and placed into an orphanage by his grandmother, Baca became a runaway at the age of 13.  In his uniquely American story, Baca learned the world was his for the taking, only when the world was taken away from him.  Convicted of drug charges in his early 20's, Baca spent his 5 year prison term reclaiming his life by learning to read and write poetry.


TODAY'S POEM:       Cloudy Day
WORDSMITH:           Jimmy Santiago Baca (1952 - Present)
SOURCE:                  Immigrants in Our Own Land

Cloudy Day


It is windy today. A wall of wind crashes against,
windows clunk against, iron frames
as wind swings past broken glass
and seethes, like a frightened cat
in empty spaces of the cellblock.

In the exercise yard
we sat huddled in our prison jackets,
on our haunches against the fence,
and the wind carried our words
over the fences,
while the vigilant guard on the tower
held his cap at the sudden gust.

I could see the main tower from where I sat,
and the wind in my face
gave me the feeling I could grasp
the tower like a cornstalk,
and snap it from its roots of rock.

The wind plays it like a flute,
this hollow shoot of rock.
The brim girded with barbwire
with a guard sitting there also,
listening intently to the sounds
as clouds cover the sun.

I thought of the day I was coming to prison,
in the back seat of a police car,
hands and ankles chained, the policeman pointed,
    “See that big water tank? The big
    silver one out there, sticking up?
    That’s the prison.”

And here I am, I cannot believe it.
Sometimes it is such a dream, a dream,
where I stand up in the face of the wind,
like now, it blows at my jacket,
and my eyelids flick a little bit,
while I stare disbelieving. . . .

The third day of spring,
and four years later, I can tell you,
how a man can endure, how a man
can become so cruel, how he can die
or become so cold. I can tell you this,
I have seen it every day, every day,
and still I am strong enough to love you,
love myself and feel good;
even as the earth shakes and trembles,
and I have not a thing to my name,
I feel as if I have everything, everything.


QUERIES:

1.  Baca begins with the simple statement, "it is windy today."  Pause for a moment and consider your present moment.  In one, short, simple sentence, describe today.  IT IS __________ TODAY.  What word fits best for you in this sentence?  In your opinion, how does the first line of the poem (It is windy today) inform the rest of Baca's poem?  Now consider your sentence ... IT IS _________ TODAY.  How does that sentence inform the poem of your life?

2.  Consider the phenomenon of a windy day.  How does the presence of wind effect your mood?  How do you feel on days when there is no wind?  Is it peaceful or does it cause you suffering?  Does the temperature of the day impact your view on the presence or lack of wind?  How does wind impact you on a pleasant day, on a swelteringly hot day, on a brisk fall day?

3.  Meditate for two to three minutes on the vital role wind plays in our lives.  It moves pollen from plants and trees.  It clears smog from hanging over our cities.  It produces green energy with turbines that dot the landscape.  It causes the oceans to produce waves and currents.  It can destroy a house, a town, a city during a hurricane.  It can blow on your face and make you smile.  It can cause grown men to "huddle in our prison jackets, on our haunches against the fence."  And it "carried our words over the fences."

4.  In what ways are you friends with the wind?  Do you allow the wind to brush lightly across your face on a warm summer day?  Do you push back against during the deluge of a downpour as you walk to your car or the bus?  Do you curse at it for breaking your umbrella?  Do you pray for it when your airconditioner breaks?  In what ways does the randomness of wind resemble the randomness of everyday life?  What would it mean "to make friends with the wind?"  What would it mean to make friends with reality?

5.  Baca speaks of disbelief, saying "sometimes it is such a dream, a dream..."  When was the last time you felt this way?  How do you live your life when you too, like Baca, face the wind and stare in disbelief?

6.  At the end of the poem, Baca says, "I can tell you how a man ...."  and goes on to list different states of being, all of which are negative.  From your own experiences, what can you tell us?  What have you learned?

7.  "I see it everyday, everyday and I am still strong enough to love ..."  In what ways have you reached this point in your life?  List three ways that you are strong, even in the face of difficulty.

8.  How can a person have nothing, yet feel like they have everything?  Did Baca become a Buddha in jail, or is this something that we all can feel too?  What one, single step could you take today to move to wards this state of contentment and fullness?  Are you willing to take that step today?  If so, why?  If not, why?  Remember, "a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step."