there is a stirring in my heart
a sweet thrum that asks i sit to listen
and pay a visit
to forgive my mother for manifesting her pain into mine
to forgive my father for instilling the inner voice of never enough
i line the walls of my stomach with calendulas
filling me with the warmth of the sun
and absolve from resentment
"you cannot apologize for your truth.
in this place, i forgive you."
the laundromat caught on fire
but i don't react much these days
nor do i expect much in return
or sit on swingsets
i have forgotten many things that i once knew by heart
the last four digits of my grandparents phone number
the green glint of summertime cicadas
twirling in tinsel
happy outings with dad
"where did i go"
i have to remember my body is capable of healing
that these surfacing realities are just misunderstood children
they need just to be held
and told,
"you are safe here"
there have been many times where i have not felt safe here
times that left me as empty jars
the hollow in tree stumps
a broken wasteland
it is hard to love in a world that does not understand softness
it is hard to love in a world that rarely welcomes the tender
it is hard to love in a world that exploits the earth
how this planet is treated, i'm seeing, is a reflection of my own hollowness
a collective hollowness
i wish to help and understand her
to wrap her up and say "you are safe here"
but it is not safe here
the people who inhabit this place hold little to nothing sacred
pissing in plastic and tossing up tin foil
hugging fallacies
i'm still in search of somewhere untouched by human hands
meanwhile, i'm healing the places that have held her in ways she had never hoped for
i am pressing my ear to her ground
letting her know that i hear her
that i'm here to listen
and among all this,
i feel myself rotting alongside her
we have both tolerated a lot
a lot
but we still manage to grow from these gashes
to forgive those who have held us in ways we had not hoped for
and continue on, changing with the seasons
shedding our skins to welcome relief
it is in my contract to embrace this wasteland
to embrace its reflection of my dire state
and cultivate my truth
. . .
so i sink my heart into her soil
and pray for her to hear its song
in response,
i hear a most loving song
"together,
we are safe here"
