My name is Aida Nique and I financially support the slowdown because the show

allows me to understand poems on a deeper level. I love the thoughtful lead-in

major provides before each poem. Join me in making a gift to the slowdown

today. Head to slowdownshow.org slash donate.

I'm Major Jackson and this is the slowdown.

Earlier this year, when smoke from the Canadian fires drifted into Manhattan,

the sky above Grand Central was cast in a darkening mustard yellow.

The scene conjured news footage of 9-11. Buildings seemed to recede behind apocalyptic

layers of dust. People wandered down streets and mass or covered their faces with clothing.

Without sunlight bouncing off glass skyscrapers, the city lost its sheen.

The city, however, did not lose its energy. New Yorkers went about their day

interacting, going in and out of office towers, restaurants and art museums.

They carried on with the business of life.

Ever since, I've been considering the importance and quality of light.

Although scientists note we cannot see human by illuminescence with the naked eye,

I contend we definitely feel each other's spark.

We exist in the wake of each other's glow, even during moments of crisis,

maybe even more so.

As in the natural world, our light communicates and acts as a pheromone.

I once told a longtime friend that she was inhumanly beautiful and quickly clarified

that I wasn't speaking to physical attributes.

My observation was a comment on her high wattage personality.

...