POEM: HURRICAN HITS ENGLAND

Some groups are dealing with natural disasters. That brought to my mind a beautiful poem written by Grace Nichols. I found this comment on the internet about the poem:

Grace Nichols was born in Guyana in 1950 but came to live in England in 1977.   At first – like Alvi and Bhatt – she felt uncomfortable with English culture, but later she was reconciled to living in England and now feels comfortable in both England AND the Caribbean.  

In its content, the poem tells of the time when Nichols was kept awake during the ‘hurricane’ that hit England in 1987.   The poem begins by describing how the storm reminded her of the great hurricanes of her childhood in the Caribbean – e.g. ‘Hattie’ – and the wind and storm gods – ‘Hurracan’, and ‘Oya’ and ‘Shango’ – that the people of Caribbean believed caused them Nichols then raises a succession of questions – why have the hurricane-gods come to England?   What is the meaning of it?   ‘Why is my heart unchained?’Finally, she welcomes the hurricane gods, and decides that they have come to let her know that they are here in England as much as they ever were at home in the Caribbean, and ‘the earth is the earth’ wherever you live.

Click HERE to see the source.

Click HERE to listen to the poem read by the author

Hurricane Hits England – Grace Nichols

It took a hurricane, to bring her closer
To the landscape
Half the night she lay awake,
The howling ship of the wind
Its gathering rage,
Like some dark ancestral spectre,
Fearful and reassuring:

Talk to me Huracan
Talk to me Oya
Talk to me Shango
And Hattie,
My sweeping, back-home cousin.

Tell me why you visit.
An English coast?
What is the meaning
Of old tongues
Reaping havoc
In new places?

The blinding illumination,
Even as you short-
Circuit us
Into further darkness?

What is the meaning of trees
Falling heavy as whales
Their crusted roots
Their cratered graves?

O Why is my heart unchained?

Tropical Oya of the Weather,
I am aligning myself to you,
I am following the movement of your winds,
I am riding the mystery of your storm.

Ah, sweet mystery;
Come to break the frozen lake in me,
Shaking the foundations of the very trees within me,
That the earth is the earth is the earth.