Action

We call it an “action”

I call it an outlet

A lifesaver, an avenue for pouring out

My energy, my outrage, my conviction

that you must listen to us,

must hear our concerns or

face the dire consequences.

We don’t behead our leaders anymore

The bloodthirsty mob will be satiated

With just your figurative head on a platter

But it will feel the same to you, 

Headless and unloved 

after twenty odd years.

Thankful, 2016

I am thankful for adversity.
For evil so naked
it gives me strength to fight,
exhausted as I am.

I am thankful for allies.
For surprising support from
unexpected places,
rising from the wreckage.

I am thankful for sight.
For all media, all recordings, all
memories immortalized and broadcast,
so we can truly see.

I am thankful for love.
For brothers and sisters of all kinds,
lifting each other up to
reach the unattainable.

And I am thankful for you.
For sharing this journey
and for always striving
to walk in the light.

Amidst the Dying

Amidst the dying 
Courage shines, 
A wounded man cradled 
In his savior’s bloodied arms.

Amidst the grieving
Compassion floods,
A mother comforted 
By uniformed, gentle men.

Amidst the turmoil
Hope arises,
A full-throated call
To return us to sanity.

Amidst the despair
Love abounds,
Bright spotlight shining
On our solidarity, worldwide.

Amidst the lies
Truth rings clear,
United we must stand
Against weapons of hate.

This is My America

This is my America.

I wake up each day, grateful, 

knowing my great-grandfathers and great-grandmothers
traveling to this land from across wide seas
not knowing if they could build a life
but opportunity lay ahead
and nothing but persecution lay behind
and they took their Adonai with them
bundled in miniature handmade scrolls
and velvet head coverings.

Knowing that my husband’s ancestors came long before that
either forced onto ships in shackles
for hard lives of brutal labor
or fleeing green hills barren of food
to come here and find plentiful bounty
but hatred still
No Irish signs popping up like
hillside clovers in store windows.

Knowing that my children carry this with them, and more
because their own grandparents,
their father’s familia,
moved here from warmer southern lands
following the trails of San Father Serra
up into Los Angeles
blendings of Latino heritage and cultures,
from California to Texas.

This is my America.

One household, united under God,
With liberty and justice for us all.

Uncertainty

I awake this morning not knowing

where you are or

if you’ll return, whole and healed,

come back to me with 

newfound strength and confidence

or never return again just

letting me leave, without you, and

in my uncertainty, I remember

my own words, read aloud 

one year ago today,

our prophet, your brother, spoke

proclaimed for all to hear –

I have Faith in our love and 

I have Faith in you and

that is all the certainty I need.