And like the millions of stars
You have shown me
That I am special
Unique
No better and no worse
But ultimately my life is a gift.
It’s like the mornings on hardwoods
We danced to sitar music
Our fat feet
Rambling against the tabla and rain drops
Outside the screen door.
I knew the trees were breathing and
Off their branches
Dripped words
That were mine to write.
I knew that my 3 year old was a God
and she sent universal transmissions
Thru her flailing arms and fingertips
Her eyes half closed like Buddha
Toes pointed towards the earth.
That was the day
The universe revealed itself to
awaken the Truth.
I think of this moment when I lose faith
I think of the places where we’ve scratched our names
On doorsteps of bars, bathroom walls,
Alleyways that hold our musical drunken paths,
Old homes that hold our scent, and our Indian music,
Our jazz, our sambas, our cumbias,
our ringing laughter,
People shrug over the memories of us, smiling,
Their lips recall our words
their eyes fill the outline of the spaces we’ve left behind.
they will look off into that space we encompassed,
We are here. We always were.
We always will be.
The universe has us in its arms,
It always will.
And when we die it will ring out our names,
As I will ring out
Yours.
And you will ring out mine
And it will always go round and round and round
For we are we and she and he
Is me.
Indefinitely.
And why should anyone suffer
Simply knowing this?