Zohran Mamdani inauguration ceremony
You have to imagine it.
— from Proof, by Cornelius Eady,
Written for the inauguration of
Zohran Mamdani, Jan 1, 2026, NYC.
You have to imagine it.
Teeny tiny crystals
wafting straight down
smaller than snow
more like orderly grains
of salt, aiming to scrub
winter politic dirt away.
No winds wind us up
still life that waits for
artistes’ finished slate.
They’ve wiped it clean
–memory, ice, blood–
scoured to nil, spotless.
Clouds flee, pave way
open voices, open ears
wring filth from hearts
pump them grace full.
Fear not warm gaze
Fearless, reciprocate.
Grace is today’s host for dVerse’ OpenLinkNight. Grace’s optional prompt is the featured line of poetry.
Tao Talk 
If only we could scrub that ‘winter politic dirt away’, Lisa.
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“You have to imagine it.”
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A lot ot cleaning will be needed….
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This hits, ouch. I pray for the warmth and compassion to return. Thanks for sharing this inspired poem.
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Thanks much, Grace. You’re welcome.
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It’s a pleasure to have a mayor who smiles. (K )
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<3 :)
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Very timely Lisa. We need to “wring filth from hearts”.
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Jim, I just finished reading your poem. You are a hell of a poet, but you already know that. Asking the wheelchair bound to have a seat — what a slap in the face to them :( Where I worked at the county building they had a scanner for weapons everyone had to pass through. One day one of the deputies forced a man in a wheelchair to get up and walk through as the wheelchair wouldn’t fit. What if the man hadn’t been able to struggle through? Would they have dragged him? How many others are being subjected to dehumanization as I type this.
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Thanks for reading Lisa, yes sometimes people are just going through the motions without thinking!
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Glad this happened. In New York no less. I hope other cities follow suit — we have to imagine the possibility of that. Thanks for sharing Lisa.
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Selma, yes we do. It is a clear message. You are very welcome <3
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Kind of a magic spell washed clean and not made by the hand of man. I changed the Midas Touch reference in my poem but I was thinking of it more as a curse: “A Greek mythological tale where King Midas is granted the power to turn anything he touches into gold, only for it to become a curse when his food, drink, and daughter turn to gold, threatening his life. The story serves as a cautionary tale against greed and excessive, superficial desire.”
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Colleen, I know the story of King Midas and the moral at the end. But I don’t see who we are talking about caring about his food, drink, and daughter turning to gold as he is soulless and cares for nothing but gold. He will die a cursed man for many reasons. I appreciate this dialogue. Please may he starve already.
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I get your point and some people think a Midas Touch is good, so I changed the line.
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<3
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It seems like a cold, freezing snow has fallen on the world. Hope there is a thaw someday Lisa
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Rob, I share that view and also your hope. We have to keep resisting with the warmth of love to thaw it out.
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It’s an excellent use of the prompt in describing the now and the possible, Lisa. Nicely done!
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Steve, thank you. I want to write longer poems but my attention span is shot. Too much screen shifting I think :(
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You’re welcome. Well, one could also say shorter poems work for readers with shorter attention spans, too. 😉
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:) <3
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🙂😎
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Yes “wring filth from hearts/ pump them grace full” Powerful and graceful
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Thank you, Marja <3
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Nice one Lisa.
Thanks for dropping by my blog
🎇much love
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Thank you, Gillena <3
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They’ve wiped it clean–memory, ice, blood–scoured to nil, spotless.
Reputations are cleaned up like this.
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Reena, absolutely, for good or ill. Wouldn’t it be nice if it could be without those hidden agendas? “You have to imagine it.” :)
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Yes, that is what writers do.
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The disease loathes physic like MAGA bloviators who seethe at democratic socialists getting all those votes and a welcoming handshake from power.
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Like a snail shrinks from salt. Why must there always be that upper scum that thinks it deserves so much more than the rest of us? This is more than a rhetorical question. What is a bloviator??
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Someone who talks and talks and says nothing.
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Beautiful
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Thanks, Sadje <3
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You’re most welcome dear friend.
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❤️
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<3
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Fleeing clouds and warm gazes–we definitely could use more of those!
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<3
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“Fear not warm gazeFearless, reciprocate.”
If only the world would heed this heartfelt plea. ❤️
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Maybe if enough of us imagine it…
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Absolutely!!
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Yes, let us imagine it, that good will prevail in the end. Somehow, despite everything. Because it has to. Because the heart of the majority are good. And they have been fearless in their protests.
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<3
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I have a grand, vivid imagination Lisa ~ however I’m having a hard time imagining anything good happening anytime soon. I do wonder how it all might end, taking great liberties in imagining grim scenarios where t/rump and his minions are concerned. Nothing horrific enough … mostly unspeakable if I am to be candid.
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Helen, I totally understand what you are saying. I can’t see good on the horizon, so I have to imagine it. I’m glad Grace used this line of poetry as an optional prompt. Stay safe, my friend.
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