June Jordan was the author of 28 books of poetry, fiction and social criticism and one of the most prolific intellectuals of her generation.
Diagnosed with breast cancer in 1992, Jordan was given a 40% prognosis of surviving more than five years but lived for more than a decade. While she had been a tireless advocate for the voiceless and nameless for more than 30 years, she also, with her diagnosis, became an advocate for other women afflicted with the disease. She passed away from the disease in 2002. We’d like to honor her legacy by sharing one of her poems.
What Great Grief Has Made the Empress Mute
Because it was raining outside the palace
Because there was no rain in her vicinity
Because people kept asking her questions
Because nobody ever asked her anything
Because marriage robbed her of her mother
Because she lost her daughters to the same tradition
Because her son laughed when she opened her mouth
Because he never delighted in anything she said
Because romance carried the rose inside a fist
Because she hungered for the fragrance of the rose
Because the jewels of her life did not belong to her
Because the glow of gold and silk disguised her soul
Because nothing she could say could change the melted
music of her space
Because the privilege of her misery was something she could
not disgrace
Because no one could imagine reasons for her grief
Because her grief required no imagination
Because it was raining outside the palace
Because there was no rain in her vicinity
Dedicated to the Empress Michiko and to Janice Mirikitani
Subscribe in a reader
