Portraying Reality and Writing for Freedom

As I write this on a train journey, I find myself distracted by the want to photograph the scenes zooming by. Many of the scenes would be considered beautiful, but can't be captured. Many others would not be considered beautiful, and still can't be captured. Few of the scenes make beautiful pictures. Yet they’re familiar. They’re what we witness everyday. Photography glorifies what we see each day. It breathes new light and perspective into our mental images. Blogging one's photography gives the photographer the power to choose the best of the best. What we don’t share is exactly what we see.
All scenes below were photographed in southern Vermont and western Massachusetts.

I've been enjoying reading Poets to the People, an anthology published in 1980 spotlighting South African Freedom Poets and bringing attention to the ongoing apartheid in the nation. It's a collection of sadness, awareness, understanding, resilience and ideas for a better world. It's rare to find an anthology where nearly every poem connects with and inspires the reader. For me, this might be one of the few. Below are two of my many favorites in the collection, "At the Dawn I saw Africa" by John Matshikzai and "First Day after the War" by Mazisi Kunene.

At the Dawn I saw Africa

At the dawn I saw Africa,

And pride moved in its body

As I moved;

And the light which we breathed

Was strong.

Our King was our people,

And the king, Ngonyama (lion),

Moved without fear;

And the light in the sun

Shone on the birds, the trees,

And the voices of children.

Yesterday my people were fierce,

And smiled that all things moving,

In all the lands,

Beyond all seas,

Held no fear for us.

Today the king is dead.

Where is that dawn I woke to,

When the sun was round,

And breathed life from the earth?

We do not move.

Where are the voices of the birds and trees,

And the light shining on our children?

My child's voice is strong

But I do not hear. 

Yesterday when we were proud,

And knew that we lived

In all the lands

And beyond all seas,

The earth lived in us. 

Today the king is dead.

I, of the Nation, 

Have no king. 

Today I see

No light in the sun,

And today,

Before you, the Nation,

I am no longer living.

Before you, the Nation

I say that I am dead,

And will live again only

When our Nation is free,

And the sun sings in the eyes of my child.

And as I rise,

My king shall rise,

And Africa will come back.

Today I have died.

First Day after the War

We heard the songs of a wedding party.

We saw a soft light

Coiling round the young blades of grass

At first we hesitated, then we saw her footprints,

Her face emerged, then her eyes of freedom!

She woke us with a smile saying,

'What day is this that comes suddenly?'

We said, 'It is the first day after the war.'

Then without waiting we ran to the open space

Ululating to the mountains and the pathways

Calling people from all the circles of the earth.

We shook up the old man demanding a festival

We asked for all the first fruits of the season.

We held hands with a stranger

We shouted across the waterfalls

People came from all lands

It was the first day of peace.

We saw our Ancestors travelling tall on the horizon.