wondering what the hold up is—wondering when you’ll come visit. you say a joke or two to shift the light of focus, because you don’t recognize the abundance. and they laugh. and they applaud. they understand your position. so they loosen their grip because it’s too tight. and it’s too soon to wake you up. to summon you back. the women back home just want to laugh too.

wanna play with you sometimes. wanna say hello.

hummingbirds come to visit

one with a sea-foam tail, sucking the sweet

nectarine out a firebush tree with coral tips,

singing toward the sunshine.

*feel the sun*

one ten around midday,

i see you in all your sadness,

i open my arms,

i wave, “over here!”

summer time is when we get the chance

to say “hello” back. sunday reminds us

to say “hello” back. we don’t miss our call.

we wake up early, just in case.

we wake up early just to say thank you to the sun.

we wake up early to say thank you to god

for every giving sunday, in the summer time.

spirit guide

sitting in a cool room,

on a hot day in october.

eyes as pink as sunsets

on a warm night in july.

eyes watering all the plants

i retain. memory bringing

what’s dead—back alive.

i wish it was

a physical metaphor.

the kind of manifestation

all the cards predict

i am to have. i manifest

your being here. i feel you

in the corner. i feel you

in my sleep. i feel you

by the hour, by the minute.

four by four by four.

thank you

for your blessing

i receive it.

six by one by eight,

i know you’re demanding

to get through.

i’m trying to listen.

our angels gather around,

put their force together

spark up light

pull from source

connect us

to raise my awareness.

they do the most

they show out

they go the extra mile—

they’d do that for you.

—

and (you) go

the extra mile

to let me know, once again

how loved i am, still.

you’d do that for me.

i know it.

be kind to your elders

a lot of our grandmothers

were witches, and theirs, and theirs.

they must have been ambushed

or bullied, they were too scared

to claim medicine as their own.

too traumatized to even think

about it.

do you know their ghosts

have hunted after us for

many many years? wasn’t til

now they found a way through.

wasn’t til—me and you.

be kind to your elders

they will come looking

yes they will come looking,

for you.

greed is an ugly seed

to plant.

fate calls on us

there’s a thing

time won’t fix

a black hole

too deep

an ache that sits

and sits and sits

stings a bit.

can’t make no

wrong moves

no wrong turns

every flaw disrupts

the system. it takes

a village to lift us

swing us into rhythm

our ancestors’

tunes come on

turn it up.