From the ashes of
dead loves
I rise to
love anew.
In the cold coals of
dull disappointments
I grow fresh wings to
soar in hope again.
From still-smoking embers of
total defeats
I come forth to
build a new city.
I am the Phoenix—
not a bird from
half-forgotten legend
but
Everyman who
loves
hopes
builds!
Until the night of Wednesday, July 12, 1967, it was hoped and widely believed that the civil disorders afflicting other cities would leave Newark unscathed. What Life magazine would later call “the predictable insurrection” wrought deep wounds in the fabric of the Central Ward, with a loss of lives and livelihoods out of all proportion to Newark’s size. It also impelled a reconsideration of the kind of city Newark was to be.
Artist and poet Margaret Tsuda, a recent arrival in 1967, was one of the many who stayed and joined their futures to the city’s own. Her poem appeared in the Christian Science Monitor of January 20, 1971, and in the collection Cry Love Aloud.
newarkpoems 