prayers to you

what’s it all about,
you coming into
this scared space
spewing your hate?
why not go outside
to the streets
into the Light –
strong and proud
expressing as you perceive:
that only white lives matter
all people of color
have “it” coming
that their lives mean nothing.
prayers to you,
for you truly know not
what it is you do.
you have forgotten
what You really are;
alas, you can see but so far-
only to the level of the skin
so utterly limited you are,
tightly constricted
unseen, likely never really heard,
lonely in your Little Box
amidst your tribe
of hardened have nots.
from such profound lack,
you shame and blame
easily kill and maim,
desperately looking outside
for what does not exist within.
no present capacity to self-reflect
nor the tools to adequately take stock
and practice personal responsibility.
fervent prayers for the lost pieces of you-
may you soon re-member and awaken.

 

I can’t breathe!

“I can’t breathe!!”

we, people the color of night’s sky, have been saying –
pleading-
for centuries.
What part of this do you not understand?
Are you not human
like me –
flesh
bone
blood?
A parent like me –
mother
sister
father
brother
like me?!
Look into my eyes
deep into The Soul
as I gaze into
The Essence of you.
Hear me:
I can’t breathe.
Tell me:
How does it feel
to have your knee
pinned to my back-
digging deep,
crushing with intention.
How does it serve you
to tie your noose
around my neck
stifling my breath
as I sway
gently
from the poplar tree?
Look into my eyes –
see what I see
so very clearly:
whatsoever you do
unto me,
you too
shall reap.
We
can’t
breathe.

Sacred Moment

this strange,
sudden
lonely
traumatic
seclusion.
A particularly fierce form of Grace.
All a bit of a blur-
so much has taken place
as revealed by this now wizened face.
Innocence gained and lost
as we endeavor to make the most
of what is truly a Sacred Moment
a pause, a break, space
for resurrection and metamorphosis.
Who will come of this?
Already feeling familiar pieces
falling away – cannot retrieve them
for there is no going back-
only surrender –
a radical submission,
to humility and a facile generosity
born from the remembrance
of our connectedness
and shared ancestry.

RED

Mixed emotions,
my relationship with Red
the color of
sensuality and menstruation-
of sin and punishment-
as I was taught.
Red did not hide-
neither docile nor shy.
Red, to me,
embodied extroversion-
loud and insufferable!
Beginning,
in the latter chapter of life,
to warm to Red some-
to appreciate her contours
and taste her complexity.
She’s beckoning me, Red
an invitation to finally
stand
firmly
in my Power.
It’s always been there,”
Red says.

Mask

Alas,
how is this suppose to work
now and going forward?
Vulnerability,
the removal of our masks –
invisible and heavy-
had just become
more comfortable
for so many.
Now,
suddenly,
the mask-
sterile and tangible-
has become
mandatory.
A rare treat
to see a naked face
walking down a street.
We’ve become aliens
out of necessity,
orbiting around each other,
getting no closer
to the “stranger”
that six feet.

Holding Space

holding space
resonates for me
deeper than
simply taking up space.
giver,
an easier fit than that of
receiver.
a calling to serve
with me since birth.
compelled to leave an imprint
to help make our world a little
better and kinder;
to mirror back to people
their best self, their good seeds
offering that which was not
always reflected to me.
And so, I hold space,
co-creating an expansive
and porous container-
a Welcome mat
a soft place to breathe,
to grow, to change.
A space that also
expands and contracts-
as intimate as the womb or a cocoon
and as wide as the night’s sky-
whatever the healing yearns for,
I hold The Space.

Tears and Touch

Tears
for lack of Touch;
Touch
then dissolution to Tears.
So fundamental,
touch;
essential
to our development,
to our humanity.
dissolves protective walls,
loving touch,
transforms fears,
awakens and untethers
The Soul.
Akin to breath,
the gift of touch,
a vital nutrient,
a universal must.
So, how to navigate
this time of
distrust
of all touch?

Inter-dependence

an illusion,
sheer ludicrous
and arrogance
to believe
that we are
an Island;
that what happens
over there
will not
eventually
find its way
over here;
that you can
hurt “another”,
deny “another”,
steal from “another”,
and it not-
in poetic return-
come right back
at ya.
that is how
utterly
interdependent
we are
as
humans
living in a larger
ecosystem.
alas, what will it take
to have it finally
sink in
that we are a family,
we are but One?
please,
let us all
wake the f*** up
before
we can
no more.

Another Year

Another year
I am granted
to celebrate
my mother
on her birthday!
How many more
chances
will I be blessed
to hear her voice
on her special day;
to see her
physically
in front of me,
not just in a
picture,
a snapshot
of a long ago moment,
or in vague memory.

Pink, blue, violent

Pink, blue, violent –
Heart, throat, crown.

How is The Heart
in this Moment?
At rest, at ease, at peace
because It is home –
in quiet, in solitude
immersed in beauty
amidst the sky.

And The Throat
how is it doing
presently?
Somewhat tight,
constricted,
a little sore.
Perhaps because
of words left unsaid,
stuck
with no where to go.

The Crown,
the upper realm of you,
can you feel it?
Is it accessible,
welcoming,
downloadable?
A hearty yes
said with gratitude –
the daily prayer
to be a tool
to be used
accepted.

Photo: jordan-mcdonald-Bzd1qPySNvk-unsplash