Holding Space

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Would that all who’d seen fit
To have been unkind to me
Have their childhood wounds healed

Here, look from my window

Flower and vegetable gardens
Fruit tree and fire pit
Baseball, my love, baseball

Coupling

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Something about 6 thirty
A.M.
Coffee calling
Birds beckoning
You

Something about 10 minutes
Absent-mindedly
Clutching comfort
Begin burning
Me

Song at the ready
Matchstick in hand
In harmony
Afire for it
We

Fire To Firmament

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These shoes fit me painfully perfect, I’ve learned
So I walk in them willingly

The right height for to carry me
I keep watch above the clouds and toes tied to Mother Earth

My spirit bird, a Phoenix

Mythical and real
Charred from technicolor determination

To fly at all times toward the truth
To flit back and forth from fire to firmament

New Native

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The Canarsee, then the Dutch
The English, then the Continentals
The Liberty Enlightening, then Her

1919’s newest native
Born to hope-filled immigrants
First-born Grecian blood

Taught how souls are one with land
Detest the thievery, love the thief
Gave me new-world Explorer’s eyes

Revolutionized, thus, Liberated me
My hair flowing out her crown
I call her fire my hometown

Manhattan girl, my whole world
‘Twas my Thanksgiving to be hers
Bid me to breathe free

Original Thought Credit: “The New Colossus,” Emma Lazarus

“The Currency of Grace”

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Surprised to see the a.m. sun
Afire
Shining through
The door I’d forgotten I’d opened
Left open
To remind myself I’m alive
Praise

A part of this world
Apart from this world
And out of this world, too

Anyway, first, foremost
Tending to all the green
I thought to stop, I felt ashamed
Guilt
For all I’m giv’n, undeserved
But, my friend told me the currency
Grace