I first ran across this Marge Piercy poem in my early days with Berkana. That was the 1990s. I can hear Meg’s voice reading it. I think it was at a seminar. Meg has brought the insight of poetry so often.
I love the invitation in this poem below. To claim the hunger that we have for “work that is real.” To call it out in others.
The work so often, in poetry, and in the facilitation I love, is to invite seeing what is profoundly meaningful, yet “common as mud.”
It’s the zoom call that reconnects learning in a network of people. It’s the staff meeting that insists a bit of the bigger story together. It is the boss that recognizes the fatigue and says, “that’s enough for today; let’s pick it up tomorrow.”
Enjoy reading.
To Be Of Use
The people I love the best
jump into work head first
without dallying in the shallows
and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
They seem to become natives of that element,
the black sleek heads of seals
bouncing like half-submerged balls.
I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,
who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,
who do what has to be done, again and again.
I want to be with people who submerge
in the task, who go into the fields to harvest
and work in a row and pass the bags along,
who are not parlor generals and field deserters
but move in a common rhythm
when the food must come in or the fire be put out.
The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
and a person for work that is real.
