ChicanaDiasporic: A Nomadic Journey of the Activist Exiled

Beloved Community

Can I hold what I know 
       in the moment 
       where it needs to be sung together?
Duets take time
       need hearing, pairing
       like dancing
Need rhythm, snapping fingers
       loud pops like guideposts
Stay in the lane
       watch for the sharp C
The upward slope—pause
Step back, into me as we sway together
Sing for me as a low hum
a gentle vibration.
I am standing
I am standing crooked 
Bent against a struggle
I swoop to cup the drops
of imagination
Hope as curative
as liquid mercury
silvery and poisonous
if held too long
Hope wills itself
Letting potential death
fall through my fingers
Slide quickly
to the lowest point
       then move forward.
I can be free 
I can will hope 
       beat its waiting death.

This page has paths: