Dawn in Bed

In the cool of early morning

the steel blue coming dawn

heralds the approach of the sun.

I lie in a half-lucid state

underneath the memory of your

eyes the color of the azure sky.

My world existing beneath their

all encompassing gaze. I know no

other dwelling place where

your expanse is not above me.

My thoughts make no rebuttal to this truth.

Disarmed and naked in my vulnerability

the light reveals my state, the fragility of a woman

whom has known the touch of a man

and been irreparably altered by it.

We exist in the moments that are now slipping

through my consciousness, growing more

alert, like sand through groping hands.

Fragments of moments and flashes of memories

the color of tin, and just as sharp,

I collect with words on pages

and how I long to craft them into possessions I can keep,

and carve out a place for them upon the shelf of my days

where I can finger them once more in silence.

You have placed the glow of the sun in my heart

and given me peace in unsettled places.

You have laced together particles of my soul

that had no hope of cohesion

until you laid eyes upon them.

With your instrument of sounds discernible to no one but me

you loved me into the madness of surrender.

I hear you in the bathroom stirring the

sounds of your physical presence.

The beckoning of your obligations take

you from my arms and though I still

feel you with me, you are not here.

Grief for moments passed and a hope

for many others provoke me awake

so that I might occupy the same simple day

as you, and walk in the hope that the expanse between

the days you craft for us with your simple words

will inevitably bring you home to me.

At the side of our bed you kissed me good morning

and I swallowed you into my embrace once more.

I am yours again beneath your endless sky.

Until you struggle away, and I am left in the still warm bed

of our night beneath the stars that will never

alter with our own movements in spite of them.

I know that you must go now.

A mournful, blissful radiance will be the garments

I shall wear today in remembrance of you.

I see you now from a distance

In the doorway

In the street

In the vehicle of your absence

And I know now, without a doubt, that I have loved you without boundaries, and I will never be the same.

I have recorded an audio version of this poem on SoundCloud, Click here for a listen: 
Dawn In Bed Audio

New poetry for a new Open Link Night. Join us over at dVersepoets.com to enjoy the fruit of poets and the communion of poetic companions. Cheers! ~Apryl 

Once Hidden, Forever Remembered

she walked quietly, arms folded
soles upon her land of birth, reflective
her Mother’s adornments remain upon it
las cosas sagradas, like the altars she erected

2000 anios El Senor Sufrio Por Nosotros
it reads, the old wooden cross my Grampo built
Daddy took my picture in front of it
for the purpose of remembering

la casita, now overrun by mice,
descendants of those my Grandma chased
broomstick held high, Aunt Jemima
stood inside on a shelf like a guardian and reminder

we are not without our own
cartoonish popularized prejudices

Spanglish is spoken now, in my generation
English rules my Father’s
Spanish my Grandparent’s
Indios, Latinos, Chicanos. Familia, all.

soy Americana,
con sangre de enspanola
y sangre de la tierra

I walked beside my Grandmother that day
upon the land, the farm de Los Romeros
we walked together and remembered,

toy trees and warm tortillas,
hand rolled cigarettes and poker for pennies,
the multicolored stones in the half walled porch
seeming to hide inside them the stories of us all

in the corner of the yard a Statuado of Jesus
el Sagrado Corazon alive still, with thorns and flames
delivering forth the lifeblood of the stories de la familia

speak them, hermanos
whisper them to your children, primos
tias y tios, never let us forget
we were of this place once
this place where earth meets sky
in the stories lie our
cultura, rich and deep.
once hidden, forever remembered

we lose part of ourselves lest we remember,
speak these stories, dear ones,
stories of blood and water
they are the origin of our belonging

Linking up with http://dversepoets.com/ for Open Link Night.

Season of Mourning, the Dawn will Come

weep not beloved, by faithful bedside

watch was kept and angels wept, ‘twas his to decide

no tears, no doubt, no mourning for the living

spirit cried out, unfettered faith all forgiving

his beloved one, whose tethered heart knew home

drifted not from worldly bed but into life alone

awake oh sleeper, rise sweet sister

unencumbered will you dance as victor

released now from affliction, she is whole

dancing unashamedly, unhindered soul

body surrendered, the heart knows life

and with death bury strife

weep not beloved, the dawn is neigh

pain and anguish now subside

celebrate here a life well given

speak words of grace, for he is risen

Seeing the Earth from the Moon

Sixteen years ago, my newborn daughter lay in the arms of a fledgling Mother emerging prematurely from adolescence by choices made and chances taken. The morning before my daughter was born, my Mother kissed my forehead wishing me a Happy 16^th Birthday, and promised me the dinner of my choice upon her return from work later that evening. Hours later, I found myself in the same hospital my own Mother had given birth to me in.  Despite the circumstances, and the obvious difficulties welcoming a baby born of one so young our families anticipated her arrival with a sobered love that one can only know through adversity.

            On the day she was born, a light entered our world, her blue eyes and red hair would blaze through our lives with an incomparable spirit that changed us all. Like every expectant Mother, I had rifled through baby name books seeking the one that fit just right, exploring their sounds and meanings before finally settling on Kayla Celeste. Her name would mean pure, from the heavens, though I would not know the one who created her until much later in my life, there was an understanding even then that her purpose in this world was not one of my choosing, nor one defined by the circumstances of her birth.

            She began growing faster than I could keep up, and soon, her Daddy and I decided to marry and give her as stable a family as we could being so young. And so the challenge began. I watched friends graduate while I prepared for a wedding, they celebrated academic accolades and I, developmental milestones, rolling over and sitting up, she smiled and said “mama” today. And I loved her with unfettered devotion.

We then prepared to move to San Diego after Eric joined the military. I remember cradling her in my arms one of our last night in Colorado. She was unsettled and unable to sleep. Children are sensitive, and perhaps she could anticipate the coming change. That night a song came to me, and as I cradled her in my arms and I began to sing these words;

“Black bird singing in the dead of night,

take these broken wings and learn to fly,

all your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise,

black bird fly, into the light of the dark black night…

            We’ve come a long way baby, she and I, her father and I. Many moves and changes to our family, welcoming a brother and sister, jobs and schools and through it all Kayla has thrived. Watching her twirl like a princess at her Sweet 16 Birthday Party, I couldn’t help thank God for this gift of life.  I can look back on those days, some of the most precious of my life and be thankful. Perhaps it was the Holy Spirit speaking over her life even then, the reason I sang that song to her, the reason I still do. What I knew then and what I understand now is that forging a new path, in the face of adverse circumstances won’t be easy, and I know the tasks we’ve faced, and those she’ll continue to face, and how many of them were placed there by me. How great the measure of grace given to those who forge onward, ever available, every ready to be received. How great the cost, and humbled that one so willing has paid it all.

I know that Jesus drew us to himself, and from the life we could have easily lived apart from him, and I see the evidence of his words, whispering to us along our journeys is evident to me now. He had designed her, and knew her environment would help her become who he has called her to become. Watching those developments have been one of the greatest blessings of my life.

            Kayla is a vibrant young woman today, full of life and a drive to succeed. She’s a loving friend, a talented musician and shows kindness to those around her. She’d help anyone, if she saw a need. And she desires to please God more than anyone. Her beauty carved with divine hands, and etched into my heart. We walk forward now, thankfully, and prayerfully into the next stage of our lives and relationships.

            These words on my heart, watching her grow, loving her relentlessly, serve as a reminder just how much grace can allow you to do:

“Blackbird singing in the dead of night,

Take these sunken eyes and learn to see,

all your life, you were only waiting

 for this moment to be free”