These days,
black holes of dark are in my face
but somehow the sunlight still flickers through to remind me
that there is life and purpose here still.
The geese fly north instead of south because spring is whispering:
the celebration of blossoms and babies to be birthed.
And while I want to fall into all the black holes in front of my face because my baby sister as an adult at 34, a mama of two kids, was murdered — I want to just hold her warm body close to mine in an embrace while we laugh at the consistency of the homemade sausage gravy being too thin because we didn’t measure the water correctly and hear our kids hoo and ha over it as well as they sit near one another in cousin love and connection—I know my sister is blocking the paths down the black holes in front of my face because she wants us to have more silly sweet breakfasts together.
I just want to not see violence when I see a Disney cartoon or I want to see the benign when I walk into bookstores but all the guns, and all the words: kill, murder, death, darkness, evil stare at me as I try to just buy a magazine and a pack of Skittles. I cannot escape this reality. “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.” Black on black.
I just want to cheer at a game and talk about if the popcorn is too salty but I cannot – all I can think about is the list the murderer used after he terrorized my sister before he introduced her to the spirit world.
So, yeah, I want to give up somedays to see her in the spirit world, but she tells me to walk ahead, she’s with me – holding me and holding us all as we try to put the pieces together and rise above all this darkness and let the light and sunshine brighter and heal us all and allow the spring to flourish. So, I know those dark holes will eventually disappear but now they are what I see.