If I Were Earth

Throughout the course of the semester there have been several poems presented on Fridays that were written by Henry Dumas, and I have enjoyed analyzing every single one of them. A while ago, I dedicated a blog post to the poem “America,” by Dumas, and here I want to take a look another one of his poetic works entitled “If I Were Earth.” To me, this poem seems to have a universal expression rather than one tailored to African-American literature.

If I Were Earth

Henry Dumas

Each tear that fell

from the crushed

moons of your face,

stabbed me,

broke and split

into a thousand pains.

But I held out my arms

and no not one did I miss,

No, not one pain.

And if I don’t let

you soak into me

and bring me up,

if I don’t let you seep

deep into me

and teach me,

then you can cry in

the morning to the sun,

and tell him to rise up

and burn me away.

It is immediately evident that there a sense of pain and maybe even anguish in this poem. All the description regarding tears, pain and crying is the core imagery that sets up the expression in place. More specifically, I find that there is also a clear illustration that the person crying is very fragile – these tears are not violent, instead they are a representation of delicate pain. In lines four through six, the imagery of the tears fully supports this idea of fragility. When the tears land on the receivers arm, they shatter into a “thousand pains.” It is almost as if each tear is a precious bead of glass that strikes upon landing, only to shatter in humble helplessness. The weeper is someone that is portrayed as sensitive and in deep pain.

The relationship that is set up between the crier and the other observer that is soaking in the tears is interesting to understand. In some ways, the relationship is really quite vague and undefined, for example, readers don’t even know who the two people are and what their official relation titles to each other are. However, primarily in the mid-section of the poem, there are quite a few implications that uncover the nature of the relationship. To start, we can glean that the two individuals are for some reason quite distant. In the third line, the eyes of the crier are referred to as moons. Moons physically are distant, which works with the title “If I Were Earth” because the author is stating that they are separated as Earth and moon, but moons also have a distant quality to them. Usually, I envision moons to have grey, barren stretches of land that produce a murky, distant feeling. Moons are for sure not used as an image of warm, cozy intimacy, there is definitely some separation between the companions. Another interesting aspect to the relationship outlined by the author is the power balance that is described. In the moment that the poem switches tone from a voice describing the past and the tears to a voice that outlines future scenarios, the author reveals that the crier has some power over himself. Although the first several lines depict a person crying in a vulnerable manner, the latter half of the poem adds more dimensions to the crier in this detail of authority. The author clearly elaborates on how the crier is the one that has the right and ability to develop and teach him, and that if he doesn’t allow the crier to do so that is to his own disadvantage. Through these words, the speaker lays out a more specified dynamic between the crier and himself.

The last few lines capitalize on the character of the crier, it shows what could be the future of this character that is fragile and weak yet functional as one who the companion can learn from. The speaker says that if he doesn’t follow up on supporting the crier, then that person can “cry in the morning to the sun.” The way that I interpreted this was that they could go find comfort in the sun, as if the sun were a parental figure that wanted to let their child spill all their problems unto them, someone that would be willing to have a loving discussion. Going along with the idea of comfort, the switch from the metonymical allusion using the moon is transferred into a relationship with the sun. The shady coolness of the moon is converted into the warm, welcoming sun, where the tears can disintegrate and the crier can be themselves in broad daylight. So if the speaker doesn’t respect the crier, there is still a possibility for that person to move on to happier days. The imagery of the sun also has a dual aspect to it, because it is represented in two forms if the poem is interpreted in this specific way. In one light, the sun works as the comforting figure that the crier can go to. The first description that is used by the author is that the crier can cry “in the morning to the sun.” The imagery that this brings to my mind is that of a colorfully lit sky at daybreak, with a calm, soothing, artistic vibe. The sun is a friend here. On the other hand, the sun also operates as an angry, intense source of heat. When the speaker addresses what will become of himself if he takes this less respectful path in not absorbing tears, he says the sun will “burn me away.” This dual characterization of the sun brings out the reality for the crier and the companion individually.

In the end it seems as if the broad light of the sun is actually a negative thing. The tangent of “And if I don’t let you…” only leads to a picture in which there is ultimate separation, a breach defined by two individuals going in opposite directions in life. So although there is pain in the moonlight, maybe there is something to be cherished in the moments of tears. Maybe that is where the author finds the most genuine relationship, where he can share the pain and embrace what the crier goes through. It is in these moments that the crier can “bring me up” and “teach me.” There is an exchange of emotion that is serious and without cheer, but it is where the two companions truthfully connect.