I’ve always loved the Olympic Games,
but over the last eight decades I’ve seen them
mature from a nationalistic competition for money and prestige
to scenes where competitors embrace, comfort and
congratulate each other so that at the end of every event,
I’m shaking with sobs, so touched by the beauty of humanity
at its best and by how much our young athletes have overcome
in this world fractured by centuries of war, slavery, and poverty.
In Paris they’ve gathered after 100 years to lift the furor
of competition to a level of cooperation perhaps never envisioned
since 776 B.C. Yes, war and injustice continue in new forms,
I do not argue with history, yet I see something new and touching,
like tender new leaves in a frost, testifying to a gold we humans
have always reached for–the truth that we are all one family,
living the one life in our individual selves, braided together, belonging.
Faster, higher, stronger are all ancient goals, but perhaps
even more ancient has been our dream of peace and harmony
with each other. My grief comes from the remembrance of war,
but it has a greening in it that dares me to hope once more–
may we run faster, climb higher, with stronger bonds than ever,
each to each, as the Creator has always intended.
Author’s Note: The new Olympic motto (since 2021) is the title of this poem.