Being Prepared (Or: Fiddling, While …)

Being Prepared (Or:  Fiddling, While …)

©June 6th, 2014

By Vijaya Sundaram

Plunged in reality,

I discussed mundane,

But important, things

Like, “Educational Testing.”

“Why do grownups

Discuss dark matters?”

Asked my nine-year old.

I paused, hand on receiver

Suspended my tirade

About the Privatization

Of Education, looked at her,

And admired her

For her straightness

And her crystalline mind.

“Because,” I said,

Choosing my words

Like a person stepping

On shards of glass

On a tile floor,

“Because, if we don’t,

They come upon us

Suddenly, when we

Are unprepared,

And we need to be.”

“But why do you need to

Discuss it?” she persisted,

“Because, though I hate it,

I need to talk about it with others.

Think about it, be able to fight it.

It’s important, though awful,”

I said, feeling the weight

Of it dragging my voice,

And my internal voice

Asking, Why, indeed?

And I thought,

Because, I need to

Find arguments against it,

Look at it, discuss it.

Because, I need

To know my enemy,

And size it up,

Before it comes at me.

But I didn’t say it.

I think she already

Understood my world.

She looked thoughtful.

“I know it’s important,

But I prefer books,” she said,

And went back to hers.

So do I, I thought, and

Returned to my

Telephonic exchange,

Then hung up.

Outside, the coolness

Hung in dewy curtains,

Exquisitely damp,

Promising sweet rain.

Oblivious, my pup pawed,

At the kitchen door,

Impatient, eager to drink the

Evening air, dance in dew,

Pounce on a harmless stick.

And, somewhere,

Bubbles of methane

Arose to swampy

Siberian surfaces.

And animals fled,

Or curled up and died.

(But … we’ll have

No more talk of

Dark matters, shall we?)

So, I took my dog out,

Let her taste the

Beautiful evening,

Brought her back in.

Then, with a sigh,

I opened my book.

Reality receded.

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