Sabina Carlson Robillard - Writings
Vigil for Darfur
Hold up your candle if you are an angel.
Hold up your candle if the light of hope
dances and curls about your spine
like the breath of light
about the wick.
Or blow out your candle if you believe
that when
these flames flicker out
we will forget
the faces we now see before us:
the faces
of the hopeful,
and the memory of the abused.
Hold up your candle
if the people standing alongside you
have become your wings,
and that
side by side
we fly
to a better place and time.
Hold up your candle if you know that sound does not travel
through air and wires but rather through the chords
of our hearts and that we will never
be able to claim
that we could not hear
a single cry
because a deafening ocean
stood between us.
Hold up your candle if you remember
how the world forgot 800
thousand Rwandans,
hold up your candle if you have a hole
burnt into your heart
by the Shoah, the Great Fire,
the Holocaust
and hold up your candle if you can still see
the smoke
and taste the ashes.
hold up your candle
if you know
that tears
only feed
that fire.
And hold up your candle
if you refuse to let the world
sob itself to sleep, waiting for a wish,
because we did not listen to them,
because we did not burn with them,
because we did not tell them
“I am
going
to save you.
Here,
I am your miracle.”
For who
dares to say that miracles are simply
in the dusty words
of Bibles?
Friends, look
at the crying wings you stand
side by side with, listen to the heavenly
psalms of hope and hurt, feel your heart
rise
through the halo above your head
to join with a hundred thousand others
who will heal
this world.
Hold up your candle
if you
are an angel.
For who says that peace is impossible?
Who ever said that only angels are capable of miracles?
And who
ever said
that we
are not angels?
Paper Airplanes
Sabina Carlson (2006)
Dear Universe,
I believe you already know me – you being the universe and all– so forgive my lack of
introduction. I am not the greatest letter-writer, so I apologize in advance for any rules I may
break. I simply thought you would like to hear from someone down here. It’s simply that some
days I’m concerned about you – in all honesty, Universe, there are days when I am afraid you
might just collapse. I suppose I will just put it out right now: if you need to talk about anything,
feel free to write me back. It has been a long time since I’ve had a good letter-conversation with
anyone; I imagine it has been the same for you as well.
I check my mailbox every day.
Sincerely,
Tomas
P.S. Did you see the black bowler hat blowing down the street today? It was quite
wonderful.
Dear Tomas,
It has indeed been a long since I have engaged in good correspondence with someone.
You are kind to check in. I appreciate your concern. Yet, I must admit I was unsure of
how to respond to your letter, as I have never received anything quite like it. I hope you will
pardon me – it is just that no one has ever written me before to ask how I was feeling.
That aside, I am doing modestly well. I am beginning to ache, but I suppose it is expected
at my age. It’s this Universal Law of Expansion – I am perpetually growing apart. But all my
laws of physics are in working order and my stars are following their courses, so I suppose I am,
in the end, at a loss for diatribe.
I think my temperature may be rising.
And I believe now would be the appropriate time to inquire how you are. You are
mistaken, Tomas – I do not indeed know you. Please, if you would be so kind, respond to this
post and tell me how, and who, you are. I would be much obliged.
Sincerely,
The Universe
P.S. I am afraid I missed the bowler hat. I often miss wonderful things.
Dear Universe,
I am sorry about your ache. Would you be able to find the time to rest?
As I mentioned in the previous letter, I do worry about you. Please take care of your
aches.
As for who I am, I am really no one special. I live in a house with nice windows. I enjoy
watching birds in the morning with coffee. I write modest poetry on the backs of paper airplanes.
I have fallen in love. I sing symphonies in the shower; my personal favorite is the Adagio For
Strings. (Perhaps you’ve heard it?). My wife has the most beautiful small of the back you have
ever seen. We lost our son two years ago. We were blessed with another. I am happy.
I cannot think of much else.
If there is anything else you would like to know, feel free to ask. Until then, dear
Universe, rest.
Sincerely,
Tomas
Dear Tomas,
Please – I am tired. I implore you, be honest with me. You do not have to write these kind
letters as a front for the inevitable letter in which you will ask me for something. Or maybe you
are just one of the ones who needs to tell me how sad the world is. Maybe you will even be one of
the ones who inform me that the pain is my fault. I am aware of how rude it is to say this, but as
much as I appreciate the kindness of your letters, I would rather you abandon the kindheartedness
and just tell me what it is you are looking for. To be completely honest, we will both be the better
for it. I am sorry, Tomas – I am too old and too tired to be playing this game any longer. Please,
just tell me what it is that you want – and let me rest.
Sincerely,
The Universe
Dear Universe,
All I want is for you not to collapse.
Sincerely,
Tomas
Dear Tomas,
I beg forgiveness, but I find it nearly impossible to believe you.
Please understand. In all of the letters I have received over the past several centuries, only
the names and cause of death ever seem to change. They are the same postal heartbreaks…
over… and over... That is why I had never seen anything quite like your letter before. I am
accustomed to opening the envelope and seeing, in the opening paragraph, the words “cancer”,
“AIDS”, or “accident”. Tomas, you have no conception of how many types of cancer there
are…how many types of cancer…
Tomas, there are so many letters about cancer.
Then they write, they write phrases like “she was so young” and “if only he had had one
more day”… it hurts even more when they ask me “why?” Because I do not know, Tomas. I do
not know, and I cannot do. Maybe this letter will help you understand why I asked to know what
you wanted from me. Tomas, this is all I know – cancer, pain, and cancer. So if you are another
pained human who needs to know why, just ask, because I am tired.
However, as I do owe you for the kind letters, I will give you my trust. If you say once
more that you truly want nothing, I will believe you with all of what is the closest thing I have to
a heart.
But I beg you, Tomas, be honest. I am tired, and these letters are so very heavy.
Sincerely,
The Universe
Dear Universe,
I understand. And so I will say it once more – I would like you not to collapse. Please
understand that this is all I am asking for.
Sincerely,
Tomas
Dear Tomas,
I cannot stop thinking about your son.
Would you tell me what he was like? If the memories are too difficult, I apologize…
Sincerely,
The Universe
Dear Universe,
He smiled like a sunflower.
Sincerely,
Tomas
Dear Tomas,
I wish that souls would come up here when they died, like all of you seem to believe. It
would make things a lot less lonely.
I wish I could have known your son. To be honest, if I could have seen one of his smiles,
I would have given up a hundred star births. Tomas, I would have given almost anything.
But then again, I imagine you would, too.
Sincerely,
The Universe
Dear Universe,
Thank you for your kind words – they were greatly appreciated by my wife and I. You
have a warm heart, Universe. Truly. I don’t know how I can thank you.
Sincerely,
Tomas
Dear Tomas,
I believe you and your lovely family are somewhat alone in your sentiment. But it was
appreciated nonetheless. And do not be concerned with thanks. I always had quite a problem with
words. I always preferred starlight.
Sincerely,
The Universe
Dear Universe,
I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what exactly do you spend your time doing up
there? Are there any nice streams to run in? How are the sunsets where you are?
Sincerely,
Tomas
Dear Tomas,
No, there are no streams up here. No sunsets, either, for that matter. It is somewhat sad,
yet somehow familiar. Just as you cannot see the moving fireworks of synapses in your brain, I
cannot see the sunrise – I can only know it is there, feel it, and wonder. Rainbows as well. And
star-crossed lovers – someone told me about those once.
Because of that, there is not much to do. But there is a great deal to feel. So I sit, and wait
for solar winds, star births, comet collisions, and supernovas to pass through me. I read letters.
And I can feel myself drifting slowly apart.
I would very much like to hear what a sunrise is like.
Sincerely,
The Universe
Dear Universe,
A sunrise is an ocean of watercolor wicking across the sky like dreams in unhurried chase
of the night.
Sincerely,
Tomas
Dear Tomas,
I am afraid I am unable to picture anything but cancer.
Sincerely,
The Universe
Dear Universe,
I’m sorry.
Sincerely,
Tomas
<Photographs> <Memorial Service> <Memorial Site & Go Fund Me Page>
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