Here's a Special Poem from a Special Place

At The Crawford Peace Center
(During Cindy Sheehan’s Vigil
at President Bush’s Ranch)
by Cyra Dumitru


In the small kitchen with one stove
the women are cooking: steam rises
from the kettle, brown rice and green onions
sizzle in curry. Deft fingers separate bone
from flesh, chop the whitefish.

Outside, water cools in large jugs
ready for the many thirsty: the overheated
who heckle and honk their horns,
the uncertain ones who stand across the street
trying to feel where to let their feet lead them,

the overflowing ones whose questions pitch
small tents and form a village of upside down tulips
not yet wilted from the 106-degree heat.
Near the sidewalk, white crosses
made to bear the names of fallen soldiers,

lean on one another. Near the middle
of the yard coils a labyrinth, edged
by smooth stones and large enough
for strangers to spread out within and
never lose sight of the center.

There within the labyrinth, all ages
of children are finding a measured step
through the twists and turns. If they stay
with it long enough, they might just notice that
the way in and the way out are the very same path.

-- August 27, 2005