Memoria
Waking up every morning,
against my will, against my body,
trudging down a road that never ends,
used to be so much easier,
when I would wake every morning,
knowing you would be there

Within this empty shell of a life,
within this endless walk in the dark,
and with all this meaningless meandering,
all of it never seemed to matter,
I would have walked though hell,
knowing you were in my life

Now no matter how bright,
the sun chooses to shine,
the darkness simply will not lift,
except for those little moments,
those gentle, precious moments,
when memory brings you back to me

Dedicated to Rhys Johns, and all those who have lost loved ones...

The Fire

Am I so different,

From the man standing next to me?

With the pale skin and the blue eyes,

Am I so different?

That we cannot speak of it,

That I cannot see through his eyes

Does it make him hate me?

For being so different from what he is,

For not fitting in with the familiar,

Does it make him shun me?

By not letting me in,

By casting me out upon the fire

The fire that burns my dark skin,

Are the flames that fuel my spirit,

Your hatred is only disguised fear,

For underneath burning flesh and skin,

Lies the truth that will condemn,

That I bleed the same as you do…

The Staley Illini Grove, University of Illinois at Urbana Champaign

I am of the night,

Not of darkness but of starlight

Silver streams crystal bright

Sheds down brilliant light

Wind echoes her haunting voice

Memory and dream awash inside

History and future and more besides

Only here, only now, nothing more

Speak, dear Mother, calm my soul,

Quell this raging fear of loneliness

Embrace me with your solitude

Let me into your arms again

The protector, the guardian,

Defender of faith and love,

Solid as stone, gentle as wind,

Never fading, never alone