Yellow-faced dandelions push up Obstinate to the cold that still hangs in air That promises and serves frost still, To dew drops and windowpanes, Spring is here, In an in-between, limbo of seasons, Summer and winter, each hedging for the bigger presence, This is the nature of the season, Spring—mediator between hot and cold, Light and dark On this segment of the wheel of year, All determined by the closeness And felt warmth of one star.
I try to remember Who I was Before I started this journey, A journey of journeys, where I have left what I know And found gems along the road With each step; Fallen, And scraped more than my knees, Scratched beneath my Surface, And looked to see who I am underneath; I wonder and look back to find Who I once was, I know she would not recognize me now, And at times I worry, of sharing all on this path with others But deep down, I know, Damn! How proud She–me of the past— would be if she knew All I’ve traversed, The hell and high water I have overcome, And still come out able To find beauty In the crocus of Spring In its vibrant yet gentle purple petals; That crocus That is me, Having pushed up through toughened winter dirt, Broken free, To not just be beautiful, But to welcome others Out, And to be amazed by their own epic journeys.
We’re all awake now, The veil has been lifted, It’s time to choose sides Of history, This is when out legacy is written, By when we choose to speak, And what we choose to say, Or whose life we will lay down for, Or if we’ll look at this As just another day.
With so much on my mind With so much on the world It’s no wonder I cannot sleep, I toss and turn, With no specific thought, Just a sense of worry, For the times, For the unsettled, For the pained, My ministerial heart, Aches, For past and present pains, For systemic wrongs, I long to change, I am called to move, Even in the night, When tired eyes should close, Should rest, I am called to move, Mobilized by my heart, Pumping blood of my ancestors through my veins, In and through brown limbs, I am moved for change, To actualize the humanity I have seen in small doses, On a grander scale, To see my brothers and sisters with air filled lungs, Chanting their message of change into being, We move, Not just legs, But ideas, Beliefs, Of an equalized existence Not pierced by the hate and apathy we have seen, We move, We move, We move.
The door is open, Something I’ve longed for, For so long, And still my foot hesitates, My leg quivers, My body shivers
at the unknown of the other side,
Possibilities, Good or bad, A divergence from what is already had, But whether or not I move through, I will still be moving, There will still be difference, This is a conveyer belt life, Nothing ever remains, Whether or not you change tracks, There will still be change