This Morning

etta serenades me
singing songs
about
dreams to remember,
ani reminds me
of all things
bittersweet
together they harmonize
in the twisting, turning blend
of Joy and Sorrow
that accompanies me
these days.

I am coaxing myself
into the day
warming up with a cup
of coffee, cinnamon, chocolate
enjoying the peace
of my parents' backyard
sanctuary,
where flowers
grow out of
toilets and old drawers.

My skin is browner now
than when I arrived
my muscles tightening
with use
my hair more wild
-more carefree-
I am
less wound
less bound by that which has held me
for so long.

there are older voices singing now
who dance on the wind
who pull me forward
their rhythm keeping time
with the beat of my heart
which presses up against
my ribcage
hoping her momentum
might carry me
these next few steps,
these next few days.

a spirit of Peace
is rustling through the leaves
of the japanese maple
the dogwood
the birch tree
it rushes past the old wind chimes
and makes them sing-
it kisses me
square
on the mouth,
and breathes
its sweetness into me.