tourist trap / bright eyes

there's people here but you are gone
and i find myself still swimming through time,
afraid some days i've reached the shore
"make yourself free," a man said to me
and now my heart is an open door

[again, my trans-atlantic heart]

For that sweet southern one, telling meaningful stories that always make me cry

For the bright-hearted one from the mountains who is so loyal and brave

For she who studies theology and sexuality, who doesn't see the world in dichotomy, who laughs and writes well

For that most faithful(l) pen-pal

For that married red-head dancer, always up for a hike, bike ride, or poetry reading

For that island child, a running partner with an open mind and heart

For that sister you gave back who reminds me that You matter so much, even when it feels foolish

For the one who sat with me in cold hospital rooms and who held my hand on the streets of San Francisco (how I miss her!)

For the artist who has poured so much wisdom & creativity into me, who continues to believe in me

For the one who sleeps next to me each night, makes coffee in the morning, & is so passionate about theatre

For the one in France who makes me laugh harder than anyone I know

For the one in England who cares, whose heart is large & receptive, who is just so smart

& for the one who is finally back, a new roommate, that beautiful guitar-player singing sweet melodies

For these dear, dear women in my life, I am overwhelmed & grateful.

For every Iraqi,

for every Palestinian, for every refugee in Darfur, woman in the Congo, child in Zimbabwe:

“The people walking in a land of deep darkness have seen a great light. They rejoice before you as people rejoice at the harvest, for you have shattered the yoke that burdens them, the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor. Every warrior's boot used in battle and every garment rolled in blood will be destined for burning, will be fuel for the fire. For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will rest on his shoulders. And he will be called Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end."

For every American, for every terrorist, for every imperialist, for every dictator,
even from your identity as Oppressor, there is freedom.

The one called Peace is coming.

West Hollywood, 12.06.08

Over the Rhine

"is there only one religion
the kind that whispers
when nobody comes around?
the world can wait
the world can wait
i want to drink the water from your well
i want to tell you things i'll never tell..."
-The World Can Wait

bird by bird,

we will make it

being home

opening 18 birdhouses and examining nests, cleaning them out for spring
wren, violet green or tree swallow, blue bird? you can tell from the material,
or abandoned left-over eggs

tastes of rich, full-bodied coffee,
satsumas, eggnog and pomegranates
staining fingers scarlet
oh! and those two pies i made from scratch:
one with a large squash from the garden, the other with apples from the orchard

you are inhaling hard, bracing breaths, now
you've been out hiking and walking through the cold
and the fiery sky's setting sun stuns you,
the mist shrouding ponderosa pines and douglas firs of your favorite green-gold
you are lucky, though here in a not uncommon sort of way, to spot a great-horned owl

we are witnesses of the first enduring snow-fall
for so long forgotten in the extravagance of summer,
we turn again to receive Sister Winter

Oh sweet, surreal November,
Displaced community, or, as Telford coined,
"Westmont in Exile"
Being with friends, becoming sisters, going home--
it never felt so right