Folklife Festival

From a Summer at the Folklife Festival His poetry sailed through my ears and into my heart. Saltwater tears mixed with my sweat as I sat in 104 degree weather - but for those minutes, humidity didn’t bother me. Nothing could overshadow his words, his raw emotion poured into the sheet of paper in front of him, as I listened to him read a poem about his life with cerebral palsy. The fear, the frustration, the embarrassment, and finally, the acceptance. I am real, he said. If you asked me to repeat the poem, I couldn’t - but I can tell you how he gripped the packet of paper in front of him, how a smile would break through every now and then, how his free hand waved around vigorously, how his voice would break and the shards would stab me in the gut. How when he finished, he looked up with such joy that I couldn’t stop the tears from racing down my face. How I stood up and clapped until my hands were raw. How his poetry anchored into my heart and wanted to make me become a better person - thank you for sharing this with me, stranger - I don’t even know you but I hope your life turns out wonderful.