i come from the broken places and hidden caverns of the earth.
from the wide sea, and the wind it brings.
from the open skies that can become crowded with clouds and birds and planes.
i come from the refining fire, whittled and this,
dear friends,
is the result.

“A poet’s work is to name the unnameable, to point at frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world, and stop it going to sleep.”
Salman Rushdie