Steady Now
I want to hold all you show me
deep inside,
in a memory vault with firm walls and
indefatigable capacity to
never lose people’s stories,
those whose courage to fight
trauma though it hurts them
makes me forget
my struggles for just a bit.
So play them now, these
stories queued one by one so
my resolve only grows
to join the soldiers who
are rooted in Goodness,
fuel for the heart I am
impatient to find.
Some-thing
I am at the cusp of
figuring out how I feel
these tears near the edge
of something and I wonder
will I investigate their origin
or coat this heart with platitudes,
an untrustworthy balm that never
does the job of making anyone
feel better even here in the corner
of the bagel shop where despite
AirPods pressed to my ears
I can’t help
but hear
the teenagers come to
order sandwiches for lunch and
my emotions, a delicate palette of
angst and peace spitfire ideas–
you are fine, no, you are worried,
no, scared, no, just melancholy and
that is okay, you know, you know
you are okay and
the tears fall on the pages then
this kindness of listening
to loneliness implore
again and again,
hear me.
If My Life Were to Tell You
Say it out now, loud enough so I
can hear it, the way you say my
name, like it is holy, ground worth
walking on, like you enjoy it here,
and I see it, feel it on these stones
beneath my feet, my hands scraping
air like it can hold me up, afraid as I
am of falling, so hear me, this story
I’ve never told, at least not in a way my
self recognizes, in the journey
when you know me, all the false
starts and beautiful inroads (some
might call them lies) that show me
one truth–I want you here, the way
you tell me the truth and make it
palatable, this castle of sand knocked
over with tired feet.
The Kitchen
How can I tell you
the things that happened here
in this space
my body, hips and stomach
leaning, white wood on gray concrete,
for it amazed me
(the way mothers are amazed by
their love,
disarming them completely),
the way she moved
with such happiness,
delight in her small body,
dancing to music we played,
and her ability to climb
up to the kitchen counter
from the stool and press up against
her brothers’ shoulders while
their little hands gripped avocado for a snack.
And now I stand there, both myself and
watching myself
amazed at my capability to love
with an intensity that would surely kill me
except it saves me too
and I am so grateful,
praying with all those years—
help me love better—
that my love wasn’t what
had to be enough
for us all.
Abundance
Let this day be when it begins
and all possibility sings loud and long
a chorus we drape around our shoulders
a balm on our necks
not for medicinal purposes but for
the throwing off of regret
and the crushing weight of time
making all moments what we fear
rather than celebrate,
small jewels in our hands
that grow in abundance when we
open our palms, our fingers
wide and brave,
and set them free to
be beautiful,
existing for what they are and nothing else
we make them to be,
like you,
like me,
as love covers us and we submerge
completely
inside it and never leave,
our jeweled hearts beating that song
you hear now don’t you?