Part I
And it is magnificent.
The world that births us, that holds us in the crux of its veracity,
That tends to each of us as we amplify the vibrations emitted from our deepest latitudes;
To love, to honor, to cherish
The permanence of transformation.
This is the rectitude that I have held in my deepest core,
Spirited away from a world too cruel to fathom,
Too replete with hatred to plumb the authenticity of what is magnificent.
If we are luck, we maintain forward momentum.
Spending lifetimes among us to answer the unanswerable
Forgetting that we are 70% water and the tide will pull us regardless of the struggle to stay afloat.
Awakening to the destruction of the roiling estuaries of vacillation in every moment, we are charmed.
There is solace in the constant, the exactitude of change.
No escape, only embrace.
Love spends freely amongst the ghosts of what once was.
We pour with aches, sorrow, grief,
And still love sends freedom, beauty,
Revolution of the broken into the whole.
Missing pieces entwine, as a people, we are whole.
We need one another in a desperate fashion,
To hold each other close,
Grasping hands in the whirling spate of ruination,
To rise together and become a force creating substance from poverty.
Part II
“Breathe”
“This is fear”
“That’s ok”
The unknown devours all things cerebral,
Just yesterday, the unanswerable consumed.
The concepts are complementary, though wildly at variance.
This is the moment,
The permanence of transformation.
‘I’m going to be ok’
The soundtrack of this moment,
To have come so far.
I must convince myself I am strong.
“Breathe”
“You are strong”
Convening with fear,
Though her visage has changed,
We are well-met,
A familiar flutter,
A habitual quake.
“Breathe”
“Take this moment,
It is the sum of you”
The future looms before me
Made complete in yesterday,
Made whole tomorrow,
Today, bedfellows with fear.
“Breathe”
“Walk into the kitchen”
“Ok, now you are going to eat an egg”
“Open the refrigerator”
“Ok, now you are going to drink some water”
“You need to do these things”
The grain of the hardboiled egg scrapes across the desert of my tongue,
Traveling down my throat,
Falling rocks,
Water turning it to a mudslide
It settles in my stomach, wet cement.
I must convince myself I am strong.
Blessed to be so uplifted,
Tenacious, the lines arching between myself and those people.
Entwined, we are whole,
And together, we can accomplish anything.
Rhie Azzam Morris 