- I see faces all around,
- different shapes
- and shades of hair
- and colors of skin.
- —inventors, theorists, thinkers
- —artists, musicians, writers
- and what they brought with them:
- television, laser, computer,
- paint, piano, and pen,
- and the eighth dimension unstrung.
- are only the froth,
- the effervescence of the movement of peoples,
- short, dark men,
- digging, hammering, sweating, straining,
- building houses, mending roofs.
- their sorrows, their fears,
- their loneliness
Now that they are here.
- push strollers with blond, blue-eyed babies
- and stop in the park to talk in a lyrical tongue,
- staving off loneliness and fear of what will come,
What will happen tomorrow—here.
- of those welcomed and those turned away
- —some into the maw of their enemies;
A past of some dragged here in chains;
A past of all those who came any way they could.
- a great movement of peoples—
- peripatetic tribes,
- seekers of freedom or fortune,
- refugees from evils,
- or responsibilities;
All lived and died, loved and sorrowed,
- in this new place.
- and I welcome it,
WE are the tide,
- we are the tide, rising,
- every one of us.
- so too
- shall others follow us
- to these shores,
- until death comes
- and sweeps us aside,
- leaving this ground we walk
- and air we breathe
- to others
- who follow,
- rising, ebbing, flowing,
- like the tide.