My great grandmother was a farmer
She was a medicine woman
She was brave.
My grandmother never spoke English
She was not literate
She raised her children through a war.
My mother is a broken women
She holds both magic and rage
She never shows love.
I would like to think that I am good with words
But I keep everything inside
I feel empty sometimes.
I teach you to be brave
I hope you are never ashamed to be broken
To raise your fist in the air and scream your pain
Allow your heartbreak to be heard
Never suffer in silence
Never keep your story silent
I hope you speak,
You were never meant to be alone.
These dreams felt like a baptism
Conscious stirs pulled me deeper and deeper into submerge
The pressure from being underwater intertwined with being weightless
It was like nothing I could ever imagine or describe
It was alchemy
Breaking into new ground and understanding
Breaking bread and creating common spaces for the self and the soul
Feeling interconnected and yet untouchable, all at the same time
It was a holy contradiction
Tears flow seamlessly into the water;
I didn’t know where one begins and the other ends
Fear flowed into curiosity and then into fantasy
Welcome to the matrix
Welcome to the mystery
The ocean has a way of doing that
I loved you like I love the water
and you know how much I love going into the water…