Wednesday, January 4, 2017


in the park
that is my favorite place
my sacred space

where my tears
made the river grow
where i took my little girl
on long walks

where i meditate
unearth old wounds
leave my shadows

I talk to you

I  talk to you

and write you letters
with the tips of my eyelashes

Dear Ma,

I know know now

why you were so proud
to raise us in the Bronx

when i come
to Bronx Park
and look at this river
see the sun break through
the january clouds
feel the breeze against my face
free and clear

I know why you loved the Bronx

yes, you can hear birds chirping here
ambulance sirens on the
Bronx River Parkway
as loud as the crowd
at Yankee Stadium
when Jeter hit home runs

Now like then
yes, you gave us this / the life you
wanted to give us
and our own version  / of Central Park
you called your backyard / growing up in El Barrio
your Barrio

January ground coated in shades of orange, rusty brown and
global warm green carpet

Present moment / my shadow long on the concrete path
where I practice ushiro gedi in a hoodi
beneath the shadows of tall oaks
the blue of my childhood
still up there in the sky

Whenever I doubt that God exists
I find somewhere on the planet to ponder the miracle of trees
find a big one and wrap my arms around her
and now whenever I doubt that you
as spirit energy
eternal life
I come to the first place I knew nature
where you connected me to the
Sacred Mother

and I find you
each and every time

Whenever I doubt this truth
I find a big tree
and wrap my arms around her
and hold on
for dear life

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