Veteran/author/activist Lori Perdue [1] read this poem at a gathering of progressive politicians, activists, and artists the other night at Washington's 'Busboys & Poets' venue. I can't say for sure just who it was she was describing in these words [2], but I suspect we can all think of several potential candidates for the honor... *grin*
Driven 9/25/06
One handed freestyle keyboarding and talking on two cell phones at once, she is driven, on a mission.
She catches my eye.
The buttons on her jacket are mis-aligned, making her collar jump up on one side.
She is unaware of her visage, she is driven, on a mission.
She hangs up the phone in her hand and places it on the table beside her computer,
Seamlessly sliding into another conversation, another gear, another thought process, talking into the phone balanced in the crook of her neck.
She squints at the screen of the laptop in front of her, clicks on something, passes on the retrieved information to whomever exists on the end of the sound wave, and signs off.
Letting the phone slip from her shoulder to her waiting hand, she ends the call with a practiced thumb and the slightest of glances at the tiny screen on the face of the device, and expertly drops the phone into the unfastened pocket of the ill-buttoned denim jacket.
From click to click she flows.
To the computer from the phone she goes.
Both hands now on the keyboard she changes focus again, pouring her energy, without pause into the document in front of her.
I shake my head, trying to suppress an involuntary giggle that wants to bubble up through the uncontrollable grin on my face.
She is driven, on a mission, with a vision.
My motion, my vibe, my giggle stifled to a sigh, something catches her eye.
And she smiles, realizing that she was caught multitasking,
It is the work of Peace and she is basking
In doing good things without asking.
She is building bridges, herding cats, putting out fires
And raising a voice of truth above the rumble of liars.
She types through the grin, which is deservedly wry
Her steady forward pace nullifies the march of time
Promoting change, improving people’s lives
She is driven, on a mission
A phone rings, she again slips into one handed freestyle keyboarding and with a push of a button she is communicating on two fronts at once, once more.
And the smile leaves her lips, but not her eyes.
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