by Raquel Morris
Sea Song
I open my shut eyes
Being stroked by the burgeoning sun
I rise with it’s proclamation
of a new day.
Like the waves of the ocean
Each morning washes over me
Holding it’s own energy.
I sit in stillness
Awaiting like a lonely shore
Searching for what gifts
the tide brings.
What relics from the past
Will make their way
To my hands?
What wisdom will be given
From the echoes
Of the Sea’s song.
Raindrops
Raindrops fall to the Earth
Mirroring my tears.
So many Grandparents and Elders
Lost in one year.
Collective grief
in isolation.
With loved ones dying.
In overflowing ICUs.
I. See. You.
Even though I can’t.
We are forced to grieve alone.
In bed and in our fuzzy pajamas
To bring us comfort
In the collapse.
The rain reminds us
That God cries too.
At least that’s what we were told
When we were children
Whether we were walking home
in waist high water
Or jumping in puddles
We were left longing
For the warmth of home.
My tears fall for my grandfather.
Grateful I got to say my Goodbyes.
Held his soft fragile hand in mine
Locked all the details
In my mind
Gave him one last hug
Blanketing him with love
To take on his journey above.
Raindrops fall to the Earth.
Raquel has a life long love of poetry since first reading Shel Silverstein at five years old. Poetry is an expression of her experience as a Native American woman, mother, social worker, activist, and mystic.