Vision+Voice

She stepped up to the river
her long dress
blew in the wind
the water splashed up to her feet
She turned and looked at me
she stepped forward
and threw herself into the water.
Not a sound
except the quiet splash all but masked by the sound of the water below
No! I said
Reaching forward
all I felt was air.
I let my hand fall to the ground
I stared off for a moment at the trees and cliffs and the churning water below
I sat down
and let my legs
dangle above the water
I stood up and looked down
my feet just inches from the edge
I stepped closer
And closer
My toes peeked over the edge
I stumbled against my balance before stepping back
I stared, lost in thought
before I turned to head back to the woods with
tears in my eyes.

You are walking down the street, and
You look over your shoulder, and
You see a woman, and
You wave to her, because
You recognize her,
She’s your neighbor,
She looks like
You.

A few days later,
You are walking down the street, and
You look over your shoulder, and
You see a woman, and
You are immediately suspicious, because,
She is wearing a hijab, and
You aren’t, and that means, that
She is Different, and
Doesn’t look, like,
You.

It escalates.
You are walking down the street, and
You look over your shoulder, and
You see a group of people in the park, and
They are praying, and
Praying to the god they believe in, and
You don’t like this, because,
They are different,
They speak differently,
They look different,
They are smiling, but
You only see your differences, and
You shout,
“Go back where you came from!”, and
You feel no guilt, because
Those people, innocent people,
Aren’t exactly, like,
You.

The madness continues.
Your daughter comes home, and
She tells you about her new friend, that,
She made in first grade, and
Her friend’s name isn’t Mary, or Katherine,
Her friend’s name is Haifa, and
You don’t like this, because,
You know this name isn’t from around here, and
You know this means that,
Your daughter’s innocent first grade friend, is
Different, and
You send an angry email to the teacher, and
You say lots of things,
Mostly things that hurt us, and,
Things that say that We’re not welcome, and
You
Don’t
Want
Different.

You go to the PTA meeting, and
You see the woman there, and
She is wearing a hijab, and
You know this is different, and
You don’t like her, but
She tries to be nice, in
A different language, because,
She struggles with English, but
Is learning fast, and
Wishes no harm to anyone.
The president of the PTA begins, and
She talks about the carnival, and
The fundraiser, and
She asks,
Who will volunteer?
And many hands are raised, including,
Yours, and the woman wearing the hijab.
The president writes down every name,
Except, when she gets to the woman wearing the hijab,
She doesn’t know her name, so,
She asks, and
In broken English, the woman says,
My name is Yasmeen, and
My last name is
Angawi.
And my daughter is Haifa.
And the president of the PTA, doesn’t like this name, and,
You agree with her.
She doesn’t write it down, she says,
“We don’t need your help,
We don’t want your help,
We think, with all politeness, that
You should go back where you came from. ”
The woman wearing the hijab seems shocked, but
You don’t care.
She leaves, and
You
Are
Glad.

You are back to walking down the street, and
You look over your shoulder, and
You see a woman, and
Her daughter, and
Her husband, and
None of them look like,
You, and,
None of them speak your language, and
You don’t like this, but,
You realize, that,
You are not affected by them, and
It doesn’t matter that,
They are different, and
If we could all realize, that,
It
Doesn’t
Matter
If We’re different,
Because we fought to get here, and
We are here to stay.

Bumper to bumper, an unmoving ballet
Honking and shouting, a busy symphony
Engines hum and bass blares
On and off the blinkers flash
Everyone with different places to go
The game of stop and go never ending
Along the traffic is a cityscape
A cityscape of beautifully crafted architecture
Architecture of windows and dazzling lights
Architecture deserving the expression of appreciation
But everyone is too distracted
Distracted by the humming and honking
The symphony of noise and pattern of blinkers
The stop and go
The never ending metal ballet

He knew he had been to that place,
but he wasn’t sure why
He remembered finally
visiting years earlier with someone else who wasn’t with him now

It seemed like everything was empty,
the wall blocking any further imagination
Someone else replaced the memory of his brother
now a sister whom he did not know

He had lived so long
moving, but staying the same
in almost the same place
The rooms mirrored each other, and they said hello in that familiar tone

But one thing was different
and he knew what it was but he didn’t dare to tell
Things and people slowly disappeared,
but that place came back after leaving long ago.

I remember the dripping ice cream
the hot summer day
walking in the cool shade
laughing, with a smile bigger than the sun

I remember the warm sunlight,
feeling like I could fly,
being in my favorite place
On a long walk

I remember the love

I remember the warm water,
the show on TV
laying around, playing, without a care in the world
i remember the laughter

And even during the coldest nights
I could still feel the warmth,
overcoming fear together
the neverending joy

I remember the love.

I remember you

I remember the joy fading into sadness
our little bubbles popping
the crying
the room

I remember what used to be love.

wishing I could go back,
the loneliness
the walks alone
the suddenly empty world.

I remember the tears.

Cool Mountain Mornings,
and cold summer streams.
Awoken by squabbles and chirps,
rustling and racket from the nearby bush.
I emerge from my cocoon.

Piercing through the pines,
the sun darts and dances through needles.
A refreshing breeze blows in
And brings with it revitalizing drafts.
The forest invites everyone to stay.

Dusk falls on the mountain,
and a dim fire is sparked.
Igniting feelings of warmth.
I drift asleep to the crackles of a blaze,
hoping to remain here forever.

I walk the trail beneath light-dappled trees
My faithful dog does scent at every bend
As earth and leaves get dried in beams of sun
I breathe the air and feel my body mend

We reach the creek and leave the shade of trail
We run among the flats and jump the rocks
We sniff and splash and dry, and go again
Then climb the cliffs to see the view atop

We squeeze onto the ledge that leads to caves
And there we rest, alone, but not alone
The sounds below drift up, but not for us
We need not answer them, or check my phone

But be at ease, and find the waterfalls
a-full and flowing now, the Greenbelt calls

Spring is Spring
Rain shows and then flowers
Sometimes hot sometimes cold
And once and a while perfect

Summer is Summer
Long days at the pool and then popsicles
Sometimes you get a sunburn sometimes you get a scraped knee
And once and a while perfect

Fall is Fall
Autumn leaves and cool weather
Sometimes an early snow sometimes a sticky humid day
And once and a while perfect

Winter is winter
Light snow for sledding and snowball fights
Sometimes too cold to go outside and sometimes you’re just hoping for snow
And once and a while perfect

My mom wet-willed me
this morning
It was wet.
It was disgusting.
And unpleasant.

I was mad. I was not having it.
And to top it all off it was all
because I didn’t want to get out of bed.
She thought it was funny.
But not me.

I was frustrated so I took a break
And ate my Nutella sandwich Outside
Yeah that’s right

I came inside giving her
The silent treatment
Both of us got sick of that really fast

So I gave in
I lost the war
she won

But you know what, some things
Came Good out of
the bad experience
First, i got to ride shotgun
I never
I mean never get to do that

Cause my brother
always gets to
But he was sick of me and
My mom fighting
So I got to sit in the front as long as

So I got to sit in the front as long as
Me and my mom would stop fighting

Best of all…I got too wet willy, my mom, back

I think to myself a lot of the time
Sometimes it’s about what I want to eat,
Maybe even about what I want to wear tomorrow

But most of the time it’s always about you
My mind still thinks about you
Your voice and your eyes
Your hands were something I always found comfort in
Your madness is still all my heart desires

Why do I still miss you
Why do I still wish you would come back
And why do I still wish that every time my phone rings
It would be you
And your stupid special ringtone I made for you
All those years ago

I knew I would miss you
I just didn’t know
I would miss you

Every day.