Learning to bloom 'in the noise of the whirlwind'

Releasing the old and creating the new is something New Yorkers know more about than most. And the words on this beautiful mosaic, in a New York subway station, speak profoundly of this. 'This is the urgency: Live! And conduct your blooming in the noise of the whirlwind.' Taken from an original poem by Gwendolyn Brooks (which follows below), it melts and breaks my heart at the same time...The Second Sermon on the WarplaneThis is the urgency: Live!and have your blooming in the noise of the whirlwind.Salve salvage in the spin.Endorse the splendor splashes;stylize the flawed utility;prop a malign or failing light–but know the whirlwind is our commonwealth.Not the easy man, who rides above them all,not the jumbo brigand,not the pet bird of poets, that sweetest sonnet,shall straddle the whirlwind.Nevertheless, live.All about are the cold places,all about are the pushmen and jeopardy, theft–all about are the stormers and scramblers butwhat must our Season be, which starts from Fear?Live and go out.Define andmedicate the whirlwind.The timecracks into furious flower. Lifts its faceall unashamed. And sways in wicked grace.Whose half-black hands assemble orangesis tom-tom hearted(goes in bearing oranges and boom).And there are bells for orphans–and red and shriek and sheen.A garbageman is dignifiedas any diplomat.Big Bessie’s feet hurt like nobody’s business,but she stands–bigly–under the unruly scrutiny, standsin the wild weed.In the wild weedshe is a citizen,and is a moment of highest quality; admirable.It is lonesome, yes. For we are the last of the loud.Nevertheless, live.Conduct your blooming in the noise and whip of thewhirlwind.