3/30: I’M HERE, I’M HERE, I’M HERE
I get lost listening to the rain arrive outside my window. Sunlight falls through a tree touching me and I abandon my shadow self. I pass by my reflection at intersections and praise the soil in my blood. I am a seed after the storm. Born in the heat, my heart is a sweating beast. I step outside and cannot hide. I remember every time I laid beneath the Oak trees and prayed in the shade. What I know now is, the weight of my body is proof I’m heavy enough to be tethered, that I won’t disappear. I’ve swam in the river and did not drown. I forgive the fog every time it hogs the sunset. I like to think I’m changing like the flowers in my grandmother’s greenhouse. Oh beautiful conspiracy of mud, always working like the weather. Sometimes the stillness overthrows me. Some days, I open my heart with no plans of closing.