Kindness
By Naomi Shihab Nye
Before you know what kindness
really is
You must lose things
Feel the future dissolve
in a moment
Like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand
What you counted and carefully
saved
All this must go so you know
How desolate the landscape
can be
Between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
Thinking the bus will never
stop
The passengers eating maize
and children
Will stare out the window
forever.
Before you learn the tender
gravity of kindness
You must travel where the
Indian in a white poncho
Lies dead by the side of
the road
You must see how this could
be you
How he too was someone
Who journeyed through the
night
With plans and the simple
breath
That kept him alive.
Before you know kindness
As the deepest thing
inside
You must know sorrows
As the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow
You must speak to it till
your voice
Catches the thread of all
sorrows
And you see the size of the
cloth.
Then it is only kindness
That makes sense anymore
Only kindness that ties your
shoes
And sends you out into the
day
To mail letters and purchase
bread
Only kindness that raises
its head
From the crowd of the world
to say
It is I you have been looking
for
And then goes with you everywhere
Like a shadow or a friend.