Maya,
I will always miss you.
A great tree is who You were,
Roots surging past jagged stones,
Steady, sure, sifting
Through the gravel in my bones,
Waking each cell,
Feeling each bruise,
Absorbing life’s
Battered branches sprouting with light,
And giving me strength,
And breath to breathe,
A beacon in a dark land,
Hope, when all seemed broken,
A free bird soaring,
Picking up the pieces of my heart
Where your cage fell apart,
Following the drinking gourd.
In your trail of living water
I live
In your promised land,
And though you didn’t know me
Your voice was familiar to me,
Comforting, warm like honey,
A resilient old negro spiritual,
Surging, throbbing beyond southern soil,
A thriving river soft like tear drops,
Yet strong,
Running deep where cuts lashed with sorrow
Tangled in veins, and skin, and memory.
Your words healed me with your passion,
Woke me with self-compassion.
You are the rising spirit on the backs of history,
You are the dark ocean moving,
Threading a journey into tomorrow.
Bright diamond,
In the star studded sky,
Lead the way to water,
And I will follow.
Karen K. L. Espaniola,
June 1, 2014
hinarising 