won’t you celebrate with me
won't you celebrate with me
what i have shaped into
a kind of life? i had no model.
born in babylon
both nonwhite and woman
what did i see to be except myself?
i made it up
here on this bridge between
starshine and clay,
my one hand holding tight
my other hand; come celebrate
with me that everyday
something has tried to kill me
and has failed.
Notes
Where Derek Walcott’s Love After Love staged a gentle, private feast of self-reconciliation at one’s own door, Lucille Clifton’s won’t you celebrate with me demands an open, defiant communal triumph carved out of raw survival and systemic erasure. Forging an entire self without a map or model in the heart of Babylon exposes the fierce alchemy of radical self-creation, proving that the most profound resilience is not passive endurance, but the daily, miraculous victory of having met catastrophe and refused to be broken. It crowns August’s theme of Feast with unyielding, triumphant grace, reminding us that our very survival is a banquet worth celebrating against every force that attempted to deny our existence. #poetry #lucilleclifton #africanamerican #august #women
Lucille Clifton, “won't you celebrate with me” from Book of Light. Copyright © 1993 by Lucille Clifton.