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When Poets Die - Remembering Adrienne Rich

When poets die the conscience of a nation falters
Havlav left his native land bereft but not without a legacy still unsurpassed

A poet’s death is pause for deep refection, for even deeper grief at hearing of their passing
Because they live as measurable barometers of our times and of our lives

If we are graced to carry them along our journey
We're moved to inner life awakenings that change our selves
Our nation states, our very souls

A poet’s death diminishes the life force of us all

To catch our breath again
We must breathe deep
We must reach deep to ask how will we all go on
Without their words of newer poetry
To give us hope, to shame our lack of empathy, inaction
To move us well beyond our yet to be defined civil or social rights movements
That they and only they imagine as in “a dream for a common language”

When poets die some part of us is torn away from mooring on our sea of life
And we must seek an anchor somewhere once again within their words