A place to celebrate the terrible victory. We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here. At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow.
We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks. Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.
Harjo's 'Perhaps the World Ends Here' reflects on life's cycles around the kitchen table, embodying birth, love, conflict, and death. Perhaps the World Ends Here by Joy Harjo The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on. We chase chickens or dogs away from it.
Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it. At these tables, we find the gift of more and perhaps even a glimpse of the giver.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, after we have learned to laugh and weep with every sense of what it means to be human, eating and drinking in the uncontainable love and hospitality of a host who appears in the breaking of bread and welcomes us home. The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on. We chase chickens or dogs away from it.
Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it. It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human.
We make men at it, we make. We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here. At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow.
We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks. Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.
I call it the kitchen table poem. This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun. We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last. A place to celebrate the terrible victory. We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite. + Joy Harjo.