Aren’t we but a series of voices
Relaying messages forward from different lifetimes?
Am I not of my late great-grandmother,
Who bought me a journal
Just after a series of troubled teenage years?
She said:
“Whatever you do, don’t stop writing.”
What did she see in me?
Was it not the very same thing that I saw in her eyes
As tears formed when she touched my womb
Which carried my unborn daughter?
If I could press record and keep track
Of the private moments and memories,
The conversations,
Wouldn’t that be a clever life cheat code?
Because pictures and footage of gatherings
And functions are awesome,
But WHY didn’t I capture those
Moments and
Memories and
Conversations
That many wouldn’t believe
If I stood before them now
And attempted to summarize
The depths of those
Moments and
Memories and
Conversations?
I open my mouth to attempt
Such a task but what comes out
Is gibberish,
Talking in circles,
Unable to verbally
Use my favorite tool,
Words.
Unable to tap in
And reach through,
For she said whatever you do
Don’t stop writing.
My dear late cousin told me
To never stop fighting.
Gosh, why can’t I say these things
When given the chance?
Instead I become flabbergasted
At the slightest glance
But if only they knew
The depths of what is inside –
It isn’t that crazy,
It isn’t intoxication,
It ain’t that hazy.
It is deep and spiritual
And I wanted to run,
But the purpose of greatness
Had already begun
I say to people all the time:
“Show yourself grace.”
Sure, it is true that
My mind moves at a pace
Faster that my body can maintain
But listen:
All it takes is a moment to slow down,
Have a talk or several with God,
Pick myself up,
No need to stay down.
And I think deeply of how those who
Came before me,
Saw something inside
Although I longed to destroy me.
I pray, meditate,
Take a walk, or eight.
I wash my face,
I slow my pace,
And after that talk,
I whisper,
“Show yourself, Grace.”
Jusjess Poetry: Poetry and Other Expression in Written Art 
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