I carry the torch of my immigrant grandmother
in my soul as the guiding light of what it means
to be a citizen of a country that gave her so much
which she passed on to the generations that followed.
She knew the value of hard work and community,
that we are stronger together. Welcoming all,
for the quilt is made beautiful by the diversity
of the pieces that are sewn together.
It’s the hope I find when society bands together,
Looking to ease people’s suffering,
as witnessed in the LA fires.
My dream for my country is that we
can harness that energy not only in times
of natural disasters, but in daily living.
To truly see that my neighbor
is every person that I meet.
Citizenship means standing up for what I believe in,
making my voice heard,
especially when it’s not comfortable,
knowing that freedom for all comes at a price.
So, I hope for the strength to do what is right
when it is easier to sit on the sidelines.
Category: Creativity
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On Being a Citizen
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Strange Bed Fellows
How they walk, hand in hand,
forever intertwined,
grief and joy,
never knowing who will pop up.
The inexplicable joy that starts
at the crinkles of your eyes caused
by the curving of your lips
as they turn upwards in a smile.
It is the warm, tingly feeling in your chest
as your heart celebrates your friend’s good fortune
or the beauty that surrounds you.
The ecstasy shines out from your body
with the strength of the summer sun.
And you think this bliss will last forever,
only to have grief roar in
with the ferocity of a winter blizzard,
causing whiteout conditions
that make it hard to navigate
what once was a breezy, clear day.
The wind will chill your weary soul
as it grasps to find its footing.
The weight will come,
crashing down on your chest,
making it hard to breathe.
Your eyes will glisten with tears,
as the river spills down your cheeks.
Looking up from the valley floor,
you wonder once again,
“How will I ever get back to the top of the hill?”
And the amazing thing is this all
can happen within minutes of each other.
So, you learn to hold each hand with gentleness,
knowing that love has knit them together
as part of the bargain of living. -
Because Everything Falls Away
In a finite world where I’m here but for a moment,
I savor the first bite of toast with homemade blueberry jam
and the spicy warmth of my morning chai
as I break the fast of sleep.
I savor my family, those who are still with me,
and those who I carry in my heart and memories.
I savor my friends, who walk with me through all
of the seasons of life.
Their friendship is the balm for my soul,
A place where I can be my genuine self, sharing laughter,
tears and deep conversations.
I savor the warmth of arms that envelope me in a hug,
reminding me that I am loved.
I savor nature’s beauty: the hummingbird, the bee,
and the butterfly as they alight from flower to flower,
refreshed by its nectar.
I savor breathing in the air as I amble along
the garden path or among the tall pines,
a place where deep serenity abides.
I savor the beauty of the sky as it shakes off the blue of the day,
and dresses in its pastel finery
before slipping away below the horizon.
I savor the quiet moments tucked up with a book,
as I’m spirited away to another time and place,
freed from the worries of the world.
At the end of the day, when my body and mind are weary,
I savor slipping into the comfort of my bed,
pulling the covers tightly around me,
slipping away to the nighttime cinema. -
Living With Your Memories
In my mind, I travel to a place where
My passport is no longer valid,
And will not provide me with admittance.
I look through the window that contains
Only memories of the place that
Once was my safe harbor called home.
Of the arms and hearts of my parents who loved me,
But are no longer alive.I see the home decorated for birthday parties,
My dad making sure his girls had pretty party dresses
Where even our dog was dressed up for the festivities.
The yard full of neighborhood kids and cousins,
A swing set where ghost stories were told,
A rabbit hutch that was transformed into a clubhouse,
and summer carnivals with games and the best homemade fudge.I see the joy of trips to Piseco Lake,
And the cabin that would be home for a week.
Canoe rides to the island in the middle of the lake,
And nights at the dump nearby,
With the hopes of spotting bears
From the shelter of our station wagon.The annual trip to Cayuga Lake with my mom and siblings,
and my maternal aunt with her two youngest children.
We stayed in cabin 8, the biggest cabin with two bedrooms,
Though the bathrooms and showers were down the road.The sadness of my father leaving Sunday night to return to work in Syracuse
Would soon be filled with days when other relatives would visit,
And we would be free range children,
swimming in the lake and fishing from the pier,
catching sunfish and throwing them back into the lake
for someone else’s hook to snare them.
Buying candy at the little shop down the road,
And exploring places that we weren’t supposed to go.The longing for my parents and the grounding that they provided
Is something that I’m still learning to grasp.
When I return to the city of my birth,
With a hole in my heart that cannot be fixed.
The house that held these memories
Means nothing without the souls
Who once dwelled there. -
Astrophilia
(n.) rare love and obsession with planets, stars, and outer space
Transport me to the cosmos,
Past the moon and the known planets
To the wonder of the galaxies that lay
Beyond our Milky Way.
Oh, to be free of the bonds of gravity,
The smallness of life that boxes me in
And the harsh realities that wound my soul.
The images of space call to me,
With their majesty and glory.
Who, in their infinite wisdom, could create
A paradise of newly forming stars,
Emitting bright red gases 1,300 light years from earth.
These offspring are only 100,000 years old,
Mere youths in the universe that sprang to life 13.8 million years ago.
As I gaze upon these photographs sent back from deep space,
I’m filled with hope and wonder.
That I’ve been placed on this planet, to shine brightly,
To feel the pain when my worlds collide, morphing me
Into a unique being, with remnants of the star I was.
Ever changing, growing, searching for
My new dwelling place in the world.
Beautiful Bittersweet Life Poems 