Sun Kissed Days

Sun Kissed Days

Sunday, October 28, 2018

Pittsburgh








Today I am reposting The Color Of My Blood which I wrote for the victims of Pulse nightclub. Today I feel it is fitting after another senseless act of violence. My thoughts are with the people of Pittsburgh. The victims woke up Saturday morning and all they wanted was to practice their faith, to observe the sabbath. I have no words.




The shape of my eyes,
the sound of my voice,
the shade of my skin,
my sexuality.
The color of my blood
the same 
as yours.
If you saw the light in my eyes,
if you saw my mother's tears,
if you felt her fears,
grief engraved on her skin.
Would you have yanked me
like a weed from the
garden of life,
Would you have shattered
me in pieces
 leaving me
to bleed out in the dark.
Ideologies differ,
dreams unalike,
my diversity
makes me
unique,
beautiful,
majestic,
a beacon in the fiber
of humanity.
The shape of my eyes,
the sound of my voice,
the shade of my skin,
my sexuality.
The color of my blood
same as yours.

Sunday, October 7, 2018

This Is All we Have


The divine exists in the details,
in the mornings,
in the tangerine sunrise.
If we lay our lips to it
we could taste life for a moment.
We could succumb to the truth,
that today is all we have.
The certainty that tomorrow
we will mourn today.
Today with all its
grace,
fear,
challenges,
humility,
and shame.
We must grasp it fiercely,
feel it in our marrow,
hold the vision of it in 
the mantle of our minds.
This,
here and now,
is what we have.
It is not lost on me.
Watch my bright eyes,
wild with anticipation.
See the nectar roll off my chin,
listen to me roar loudly,
and know that
I am aware
that this is all we have to hold on to. 

Sunday, September 9, 2018

Israel




Her rivers flow through my veins.
Her mountains majestic in my dreams.
Her honey drips on my lips.
Her arms are outstretched to me.
Her orange groves awaken
a yearning I had forgotten.
Her heartbeat pounding through
my day.
Her breath on my face
whispering lullabies of a land
possessed by splendor.
Her life spreading on my skin
like wild fire.
I trace my fingers through 
her borders.
I kneel before her with anticipation
and trepidation,
consumed by her beauty and grace,
feeble with love,
whole again.

Sunday, July 15, 2018

His Landscape


His fingers play with
my jingle-jangle bracelets.
Wood beads from India,
Chinese coins my friends and I wear,
an eye encased in gold to ward
off evil spirits,
Buddha with a turquoise bead 
and a ladybug. 
He touches them gently
feeling each one,
knowing them the way 
he knows my lullabies.
The way he knows my voice,
when we dream about the moon and the stars.
When I move away he stretches
to find me in his sleep,
to find the curve of my waist,
where I held his father long ago.
I listen to his breath,
his presence fills my soul.
I dream big dreams for him.
I build memories,
they echo the laughter we share.
A landscape he can remember
and carry in his heart,
the way I carry him in my being.

Sunday, June 17, 2018

Fishing Is Life


The stars followed you.
The sun kissed your lips.
The wind embraced you,
and the tides listened to you weep.
You lived the mysteries of life
with sacred awe,
to the drops of happiness and sorrow.
The words are constricted
in my heart.
We laughed and
we wept
by your bedside,
as you floated 
through two worlds.
We reminisced of days
with life.
The life that wakes you up
and shakes you up
as you feel it in your marrow.
Days of endless ocean,
sea life,
love and pain.
Days when your lion heart
was wild with wonder,
fierce with quest.
You loved,
you lived,
your chalice always full,
your roar loud,
your brave heart gentle.

Monday June 11 my father in law passed away. He was a man that lived his life fully and a man that was loved by many. I loved him and I will miss him dearly. I pray that he finds the peace that he wished for.

Sunday, May 20, 2018

Between Us


Lines,
borders,
strings
between us 
left me alone.
Aching,
burning,
my broken spirit seared.
My pain shifted,
my resolve questioned,
my being a landscape
of emptiness. 
Disappointment
does not whisper,
it roars,
it burns the skin and the soul.
Love possesses
the beauty that transcends defeat.
The bitter taste
lingers on my lips
by questioning
all I had believed in. 

Thursday, May 10, 2018

Without You


Your absence is loud.
It echos through my being,
it tears through my heart.
Ten years,
I have walked thousands of days
and nights without you
by my side.
How?
How have I navigated the storms
life presented?
How did I hold onto small things that
you would have seen large,
the way only you could see,
and feel my soul
through the sweet and sour.
Days,
months,
years.
You missed the constellations
in my boys eyes,
the miracle of my grandson
with your middle name
and your smile.
I don't know how
that grief morphs through
months and years.
Then,
in a moment,
a sound,
a smell,
evokes memories of home.
I see you in my poetry,
in my brilliant boys,
in kindness within me.
A kindness I learned from you.
Your legacy is alive.
Your legacy as big as
you will always be to me.