In each other, let us see ourselves.
—Alberto Ríos, “Who Has Need, I Stand with You”
Sometimes when I look in the mirror,
my eyes see only my own reflection.
I forget to see the eyes of my mother,
and her mother, and her mother.
I forget to see the eyes of my sisters
who live in other towns, other countries.
I forget to see the eyes of my brothers
who teach, who fight, who rule, who beg.
I forget how my heart is fueled
by the same electric impulse
that drives every other beating heart.
I forget how my skin is made and remade
from the same carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen and oxygen
that comprises every other human’s skin.
Oh, to remember. Not just when I look in the mirror,
but when I walk down the street.
Not just when I feel drawn to another,
but also when I feel defensive, averse.
Oh, to remember the strange and certain math
that seven point seven five three billion people
equal one cohesive expression
of what it means to be alive.
Your hands, my hands. Your breath, my breath.
Your eyes in my eyes. My eyes in your eyes.
This life, ours.
Posts Tagged ‘unity’
Reflection
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communion, other, reflection, relationship, unity on July 13, 2022| 5 Comments »
Bioluminescence
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged beach, bioluminescence, dark, light, science, shine, unity on January 18, 2022| 9 Comments »
Sometimes, when I fear
the small light I bring
isn’t big enough or bright
enough, I think of that night
on the beach years ago
when every step I took
in the cool wet sand turned
a glowing, iridescent blue—
and the waves themselves
were a flashing greenish hue—
imagine we could do
what 7.9 billion
one-celled plankton can do—
can shine when it’s dark,
can shine when agitated,
can shine with our own
inner light and trust when we all
bring the tiny light we have,
it’s enough to illumine the next step
in the long stretch of night.
Star of Wonder
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged astronomy, communion, connection, planet, star, unity on December 23, 2020| 3 Comments »
I don’t want us to be
like Jupiter and Saturn,
slowly moving toward each other
only to find ourselves
slowly moving further away.
When we conjoin,
let it be that we find
our paths not crossing
but merging, moving
us forever in the same direction,
our light uniting so brightly
others might imagine
it signifies a miracle—
and they will, of course,
be right.
Driving with My Son the Night Before His Driver’s Test
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged driving, parenting, politics, togetherness, unity on September 29, 2020| 6 Comments »
We turn off the music. Practice left turns
onto the highway. Park on the bias.
Park on the street. We get gas.
Drive backwards. Use the median.
Change lanes. Use the blinker.
Slow down. Full stop.
There’s a rule for everything
and a comfort in knowing the rules.
“And you can practice everywhere,”
notes our DMV guidelines, “so have at it!”
Imagine if we all practiced everywhere.
If we all signaled before every turn—
turn of heart, turn of mind, turn of plans.
Imagine if we all agreed, no matter where
we’re going and no matter where we’ve been,
that we are all travelers on the same side,
knowing we’re on this road together.
Imagine if we agreed to stop in an orderly way—
no drama, no shaming, no blame,
so that someone else might take their turn to go.
Imagine, getting along with others,
no matter what they believe,
could be as simple as keeping it steady,
looking over your shoulder,
making eye contact in a crossing,
giving each other some space.
Simple Tools
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cooking, kitchen, poem, poetry, spatula, tool, unity on July 20, 2019| 9 Comments »
for Christie
I am so grateful for the rubber spatula,
the way it sits quietly in the drawer
yet is always ready for action—
is game to scrape the walls of the blender
or to fold chocolate chips into cookie dough.
It evens and swirls the frosting on cake
and welcomes the tongue
of a child. In a sharp world,
it knows the value of being blunt;
it knows that to smooth is a gift to the world.
Some people are knives, and
I thank them. Me, I want to belong
to the order of spatulas—those
who blend, who mix, who co-mingle
dissimilars to create a cohesive whole.
I want to spread sweetness, to be a workhorse
for beauty, to stir things up,
to clean things out. I want to be useful,
an instrument of unity, a means, a lever for life.
Attending the Workshop on Implicit Bias
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged bias, communion, poem, poetry, unity on October 29, 2018| Leave a Comment »
It’s hardwired, says the instructor,
explaining that all of us tend to identify
more with people who are more like us.
It’s a survival tool from ancient times,
she says, to put people like us in an in group,
and to label the others other.
I take notes. Raise my hand. Participate.
Do exercises that show that although
I say I have no preferences, my limbic brain
has its own opinion. And so
I dedicate myself to finding
the ways we are all alike, uncovering
the ways we all mirror each other—
vulnerable, strong, curious, cautious,
I pledge myself to our common humanity,
to notice my bias and question it.
It’s a survival tool for the present time,
I tell myself. Every one of us, a sliver
of divinity.
Dear __________,
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communion, conspiracy, joy, peace, poem, poetry, unity on October 18, 2018| 4 Comments »
You are warmly invited to join our conspiracy of joy,
a growing cabal of strangers and friends who collude
to create delight, who initiate random acts of bliss, who
scheme of ways to help all others find authentic jubilance,
who tear down walls that would separate us and them.
If you enjoy such subterfuge, there certainly is room
for you. To be clear, you may be charged with pleasure,
ecstasy, and truth. Next meeting, now. And now. And now
Fear of What is Different
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged difference, poem, poetry, spider, unity on May 9, 2018| 2 Comments »
So beautiful,
this tiny red and white spider
I forget to shudder
and for a moment,
the war between want
and don’t want
is silenced.
It continues its journey
along the car door.
I walk away, slightly
more spider
than I was before.
Invitation
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged earth, poem, poetry, science, song, unity on March 1, 2018| Leave a Comment »
I’d like to teach the world to sing in perfect harmony.
—The New Seekers
The earth, say the scientists,
is more bell than we thought,
imperceptibly ringing beneath
our feet. Just because we can’t
hear it doesn’t mean it’s not
being played ceaselessly,
an ultralow hum thousands
of times below what the human ear
can hear. And the hum, they say,
is everywhere, uniting the globe
in a common tone. Perhaps,
they say, it’s ocean waves
that bang on the sea floor
or waves that crash into each other.
Perhaps, they say, the sound
goes all the way to the core.
Just because we don’t know why it rings
doesn’t mean we can’t sing along.
Follow the Lead
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged America, pencil, poem, poetry, reading, unity on February 2, 2018| 5 Comments »
a
single
pencil
can
make
a
line
thirty-
five
miles
long,
and
I
wonder
how
many
miles
of
poems
per
pencil—
and
wouldn’t
it
be
amazing
to
have
poems
scrawled
all
across
America—
323.1
million
pencils
worth—
all
of
them
sharpened
not
to
point
at
each
other
but
to
write
the
words
that
must
be
said,
telling
our
stories
and
leading
us
in
looping
lines
ever
closer
to
each
other
Genesis
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged choir, poem, poetry, Steven Nightingale, unity, voice on December 18, 2017| Leave a Comment »
Who said your real voice is not the choir?
—Steven Nightingale, “Who Said, Who Decided, Who”
and if you are not only the melody
but also the baseline, the harmony,
the descant, then who’s to say
you’re not also the quarter rest,
the fermata, the coda, the clef—
and perhaps you are also
the hand that wrote the score
and the woman who loved
to take that hand in her own
and wander the halls toward bed.
And perhaps you are also the rumpled
sheets, the ones that never made
it to the choir, the sheets that fell
to the floor while the notes
made their way uncomposed
into throats of the singers,
the air full of such improvisational grace
you’d swear the angel choirs
were singing, too.
Women’s March, January 21, 2017
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged poem, poetry, speaking out, unity, women on January 21, 2017| 3 Comments »
It hurts to be silent—
the unsaid words
sharp as frazil ice—
needle shaped and
able to slice what
inside is tender.
Still, we found ways
to be silent.
I give thanks
for the chill
that woke up
the millions of women
around the world,
got us moving
in one direction.
I give thanks
for the diversity
of messages
that inspire us
to be not one voice
but millions
together.
As we march,
I think of the fish,
how they move as one,
sometimes daily,
sometimes annually.
They know
when to stay,
when to move,
when to give it
everything they’ve got.
Letter to Our Children
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged community, division, family, poem, poetry, unity on November 10, 2016| 6 Comments »
These, too, are your family,
any who would build a wall,
any who would throw a stone.
The other is your sister,
your brother, your mother.
Pick up the stones
and build fire circles
where everyone’s voice
can be heard.
Tear down the walls
and use the debris
to build bridges.
Tattoo these words
on your hands,
on your tongue:
we are all in this
together.
No Matter Who You Are
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged community, poem, poetry, unity on February 28, 2015| 1 Comment »
you and I—
two threads joined in one
miraculous cloth
While Putting Up Jars of Roasted Red Pepper Sauce
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cooking, love, poem, poetry, red peppers, sisterhood, unity on September 22, 2014| Leave a Comment »
They are so red, the peppers,
it is impossible not to admire them
before I put them on the grate
to char their skins and sweeten their flesh.
I think of all the other hands that touched
these fruits, and I thank them: whoever planted
the seed and watered the plant, whoever
weeded and hoed and broke the green stem.
I think of all the other women around the world
speaking languages I will never know who,
in these weeks of autumn, are also standing
beside a fire, turning the peppers to roast them evenly,
all of us breathing the same smoky scent.
All of us rolling up our sleeves as we prepare
to pull off the blackened skin. All of us relieved
when the seeds fall out easily. All morning the house
smells of sunshine and basil, red peppers and gratitude.
I think of all of us doing the work to feed the people
we love, our knives keeping time against wooden boards,
our hands sticky and red with devotion.
Visiting Carter
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged counting, poem, poetry, seamlessness, separation, unity on September 8, 2014| 1 Comment »
Because the boy
has just learned to count,
he points to the stars
and says, “One.”
He does not yet
have a word for two.
Someday, perhaps,
I will be able
to survey
everything I see
and arrive
at the same number.
What We Practice While Singing A Capella
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged a capella, communion, music, singing, unity on June 7, 2014| Leave a Comment »
for Heartbeat
Here, rest in my voice
on this note we share.
And when you breathe,
I will carry the song.
And when I breathe
I know you’ll be there.
And this is how
the song goes on.
And this is how
we disappear.
Three on Burning Bridges
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged burning bridges, poem, poetry, relationship, unity on April 16, 2014| 1 Comment »
after the bridge
is burnt it doesn’t much matter,
the why
*
everything breaks
eventually and something
contains all this brokenness
*
there was never
a bridge anyway—it’s our own
charred flesh we smell
But Something Stays
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged compassion, loss of the self, poem, unity on March 15, 2013| 1 Comment »
All those worries
with their ragged edges,
all those nights
tossing in their beds,
the fevers, the shivers,
the dreams torn,
the falling, the jammed flow,
the empty bowl,
I would soften the world
if I could for you,
But it softens us,
over and over,
turning us, tumbling us,
scraping away
the layers,
even the one
our names on it,
even the one
we thought
we could never
do without.
Chant for the New Good Neighbor
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged fence, good fences make good neighbors, neighbor, poem, response, unity on December 29, 2012| 3 Comments »
Picket and vinyl,
wattle, wire,
hedgerow, concrete,
electric, iron,
post and rail,
chain link, stockade
zig zag, spear top,
palisade,
barbed wire, round pole,
dry-stone wall,
see them fall,
see them fall,
see them fall.