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April is National Poetry Month, a celebration of poets and poetry that's been in place for 25 years.
Last month, as the U.S. grieved over attacks against Asian Americans, NPR's Morning Edition collected poems on how people grapple with the increased violence and discrimination.
Over 500 listeners shared powerful, poignant poems — in the form of a list beginning with the word "today." They showcased fear, anger, empathy and motivation to make the world a better place.
NPR's resident poet Kwame Alexander took lines from the submissions to create a community poem, "Today, I Am A Witness To Change." Contributors are credited at the bottom.
Today, I Am A Witness To Change
Today, I wake up tired a tiredness that plagues me soft grey hues, contrasting over a grieving landscape, filled with many frigid hearts. Today, I ache I lay in the pre-dawn Moonshadows on my window blinds Contented kittens purring at my side. On the radio, news of greater challenges Challenges that require more than I can handle alone An Asian-American died because of hate. a child lost his mother. Today we mourn I cry and pray for the world. I want the attacks to be called what they are: Terrorism. Today I feel we need more than conversation Let us take more than a moment of silence Let us find our humanity Let us remember Let us take action Today I hesitate for the first time, I wonder if I should stay home and not walk the neighborhood. it's not the weather or the virus — the day is beautiful Today I'm frozen Terrified. I cannot hide This skin This hair These eyes. I see the punch, punch, punch of a community at war. Today I am a witness. I rush past the jeering white boys that say I brought corona to America. My soul is wary. Today, a video call full of empty boxes Stares at me, apprehensively. Students locked behind a screen Their hearts and minds Severed From one another. Today, the headlines say March Madness Today, I don't watch basketball. The madness is in the streets. In broad daylight. On the concrete sidewalks of New York. In the silence of bystanders. It's in the textbooks. The classrooms. The family dinners. The lies we tell. Today the rain falls and falls and falls and falls. a silent tear from a weeping woman. Today, I will say their names I will cancel class and try again tomorrow. Today, a Chinese man travels back in time. The hateful and racist words hurled at a lonely child emerges from buried memories Today I offer a slice of my own wounded soul to graft a love patch A patchwork piece for a more perfect union Today, I think about my best friend's Korean Mom, if it was her kicked to the ground in New York, or punched in California, or shot in Georgia. Today I remember the idea of America as a melting pot the past twelve years looking over my shoulder watching my back The Steak and Shake waitress in 2006 Who outright refused to wait on me Who threw the menu In great disdain The young woman in Alum Creek Who was with her boyfriend who Threw a stone at me Because I was doing my Tai Chi At the top of the 116 steps That I loved to go up and down I want to be somewhere and nowhere at once I cringe at our disunity I stand back in awe of the never diminishing divisiveness I cry for the misunderstood and those that misunderstand Today I tell my youngest child that when I was a child I wished I was white I was silent I allowed people around me to mispronounce my name Today the dragon bends From western winds Blown hot from valleys deep. Scorched skies belie the spring. Heads bowed. All weep. Outside my window, the daughter bends to examine the fish in the pond, slowly gliding out of their winter torpor. Her name means celebration in Chinese. It also means blessing. Today I remember the sacrifices of my grandmother Her steely eyes that shed many tears Her small, sinewy hands that clung to her children Her diminutive feet that leapt over the ocean Today, I will use her strength that courses through my veins. Today I am witness to change As I sit inside our bookstore, arranging the carefully printed and bound words of so many voices I wonder who will welcome the truth The Joy Luck Club The Hungry Tide Prairie Lotus Pachinko The Namesake So many words Each leaving an imprint Like a grain of rice Stockpiled and cataloged knowledge gleaned, gathered Empathy enhanced Today I will ferry you across the troubled waters. hold you close, in any way you crave. Today, I think not only of the cold ignorance of man but the small ember of warmth we transfer when we love. Today, I rise. Today, we stop telling lies. I will stand. I will speak. I will stand. I will speak. Today, I will return to normal Attending church eating out walking being because Today we will persevere
This community poem was created using submissions by:
Frankie Wood-Black, Ponca City, Okla.
Andrew Ensor, Knoxville, Tenn.
Todd Gardner, Tallahassee, Fla.
Jessie Bergamini, League City, Texas
Therese Glowacki, Boulder, Colo.
Rosa Nam, Houston
Veronica Crane-Lindsey, Asheville, N.C.
Ernest Wong, Broomfield, Colo.
Ali Stephens, Bossier City, La.
Andrew Adams, Effingham, Ill.
Joshua Grove, Oregon City, Ore.
Matt Harr, Marietta, Ga.
Thazin Nu, Columbus, Ohio
Lisa Burgess, Kansas City, Mo.
Heidi Pennington, Harrisonburg, Va.
Anita Rao, Oakland, Calif.
Amanda Ladish, Fayetteville, Ariz.
Michelle Alumkal, Beacon, N.Y.
Christopher Standish, Windsor, Conn.
Rebecca Dodge, Midland, Texas
Sueño LeBlond, Brattleboro, Vt.
Chiara Andres, San Francisco
Lesly Sanocki, Beaverton, Ore.
Sydney Cottongim, Milwaukee, Wisc.
Sherwin Kendall, Deltona, Fla.
Marilyn Temkin, New York City
Lyn Pyle, Honolulu, Hawaii
Susan Mcclellan, Pittsburgh, Pa.
Kundai Chikowero, Goleta, Calif.
Karen Tan Hanson, Minneapolis
Donna Joyner, New Bern, N.C.
Natalie Truong, Davis, Calif.
Kari Cameron, Churchville, N.Y.
Jane Ujhazi, Bandon, Ore.
Christine P San Mateo, Calif.
Tim McCarthy, Fox Point, Wisc.
Wendy Tang, San Francisco
Unhei Chong, Washington, D.C.
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