Have we not evolved past this?

Dear fellow humans,

I, like you, saw the picture of the missing little girl Hailey Dunbar-Blanchette on Facebook and immediately shared the amber alert.  And like you, I prayed and hoped that she would be found safe and sound and returned to her mother’s arms.

I quickly became incensed from reading people’s comments judging the mother for not coming forward, assuming the mother had something to do with this crime, and once they found the perpetrator, assuming the mother was involved with him to commit the crimes. I read many insensitive and judgmental comments written about her- the public created a monster out of a woman they do not know and have not even seen.  Once she broke her silence, I read the comments that praised her and wished her well, as the public turned her into their hero. 

I am disappointed in us.  I am disappointed that we cannot learn to take control of our minds, mouths, and in these days, our fingers that type-out our thoughts.  I am heartbroken that we are so quick to classify each other into binary labels- and for what? To better understand one another? To better understand the world? No, these practices separate you from humanity! They divide us; they alienate us from each other.  They break our own connections with our own hearts.  They damage our own relationships with ourselves and in turn our relationships with each other. 

Did it make you smart to think that the mom was implicated? Did it make you feel good? It could not have possibly brought you any peace or any sense of self-worth.

Imagine if you had just read the news and hoped for all the individuals involved to find peace, love, and solace.  That would have been the ticket.  That would have actually helped the little girl, the mother, you, and all of humanity. 

Next time, tell your mind to take a break and ask your heart to take a stand.  Take a stand for what is right.  Stop judging every individual all the time and take a moment of peace and love for the sake of yourself, and believe me, you will be doing us all a favor.

Namaste.

All the right reasons

My mother married for love.

No.

strike that.

My mother married for laughter.

Yes,

Laughter.

She married for laughter. And life was funny.  Very funny.

It was whimsical, light, and there was always something to laugh about. 

Even through the toughest times, picture: air raids, loss of land, and a rising revolution at your doorstep. The scariest of moments: forced to leave your home, entering a foreign city with $250 to your name. Yet, there was always laughter, which meant there was always joy.  To a young girl, who did not understand the realities of the adult world- there was only joy, love, and harmony.

We crossed the desert border at night, us three, in a Volkswagen van.

I was comforted by the love always glowing in his eyes. And of course, the laughter.

I kept a lock of your hair, Dad.

A piece of you has defied death.

Now,

cue the laughter.

Happiness

They told you to find yourself A plot of land,

a Physical space to grow your roots,

and beloved ones moisten the earth with their tears.

But we are spirits-

He could not ground his wings, no more than you can chip the sheen off your money clip-

We flutter and float upon our own ideals of happiness only yours is louder with its subwoofers

Drowning out the God within-

So he asked not to be buried, but to be set free

Throw away the chalice into the sea.
Drown away with me.

How?

When we were small-

We caught little bugs with see-through

Wings

Your hands bigger than mine

Your safety stronger than an angry revolution

Carries me softly (safely)

(safety).

Brings my hot feet into the cool sea-salt drenched sand.

See: half-moons set into each of your cuticles-

perfection.

Rode our bikes by the snails

                                                You taught me those trails

            Like the lines on your hands

Or the dry skin patch

                                    From scrubbing the pans

                                                Your shoes smelled of

                                                            Butter.

your laugh murmurs in my ear- low rumbling under each lobe.

we were small-

now we are big.

We have seen the end of many chapters-

Too many goodbyes

begin anew

without you

?

Alone

I am only half here. 

I am half there: Over where you left me. And tied my shoes. And took the training wheels off my bike. And took away all safety you had created. And glass shattered.

Like slow motion.

Shards

caught the light and-

Glimmered

stardust into the winter night.

Fell

on banks of snow.

         Slow motion-

and like silvery-white sprinkles on a birthday cake.

We slept over at their house that night. One of many where we left you home alone. 

All

A

Lone.

A company you kept your whole life.

Now she paints a picture, my mind can't help but replay:

You shuffle slowly. Find courage in encouraging words. Hear the echo of your slippers on the linoleum.  Wait for the elevator while gripping your walker like a child grips his backpack, nervously, on the first day of school.

Alone.

And I cannot be there to comfort you.

I am stuck. In my pink socks. Can't walk across the shards of glass.

Stories

When you became my muse, an intimate relationship was bound from my words to your actions. Binding us closer to each other.  Cathartic relief is released from the sinews of my muscles and small air pockets between the tendons in my spine.

But,

You do not know.

You know none of this.

No.

However, I do.

I

Know.

And it is enough.

So we are bound.  Like in a tale told in ancient carpets-

they are stories, you know? Stories.  Like how they met and who was courting whom.  The people, setting, season, and costumes of the golden years: a forgotten time remembered in pictures, silk and wool.
Who is the proprietor of the stories: the child sewing each strand or the keeper of the carpets?

fireworks

Don't act like that-

Or do I feel deeper than you?

I know you sense this, this surge and this connection, yet somehow I know-

our love tremors in a lower baseline within me

        than within

you. 

How do I know this? This truth?

A stark clear white. Eggshell.

I know from your lackadaisical ease: the strut in your walk and the glance in your stare

(gaze along the sand at the other beach babes) 

Don't be so lazy, lazy with your love.

Sunshine-ing your days away suckin' on orange Popsicles …

We could have been great: you and I

crowned Queen and King of the Funshine Fair holding our own

aquarium castle-

taking it home in a brown crinkly paper bag.

twilight and busy sidewalks

pink brush strokes on navy skyline

Where will it go; where shall we place it?

Our carpet feels warm on my feet,

humid

Oh, easy, next to the spider plant on our

Windowsill: cool breeze in my hair as I place it on the stained paint.

Makes everyone laugh at our next party.

Decorate it with tinsel for our first Christmas together.

It never was this way-

I was not nearly as brave as to take you on.

And you- you knew me too well.

Too well to see our future: the realization that I wasted all my youth on you.

And now I have nothing to show for it.

Nothing,

but some used teal tinsel and a

plastic castle.