I WISH

-

I wish Sinatra was still here to sing about the lonely hearts in the wee small hours of the morning.

I wish John Lennon was still here, to sing about romance and the rights of the common man.

I wish Robin was still here to make my heart laugh and my soul quiver.

I wish Ruth was still here to keep the hopes of women alive.

I wish John Lewis was still here to be a good kind of bad.

I wish my mom was still here so I could say, “I understand now.”

I wish my dad was still here, to teach me more about rooting for the little guy.

And I wish I didn’t have to wish to make good things come true and good people come through.

But the good news is that all these wonderful people and more:

the lawmakers and the lawbreakers, 

the merrymakers and the heartbreakers

Will never forsake me

Because they are as indelible as the wind

As warm as the sun

As powerful as the snow

And as challenging as the moon

That as far as I know

Despite our unimaginable distance 

will never leave me.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

MY OWN PERSONAL MERMAID. BELIEVE IN HER.

-
Image
It was a sad time in New York City, especially on Park Avenue where I lived then. My given name was Magritte, for daddy’s favorite artist Rene Magritte, who thought that embracing mystery was “as indispensable as snow on Christmas.” But everyone, as far back as I can remember, always called me “Mags.” I was 8, an only child, who was impressively precocious for her age. My favorite authors were Kafka, the feminist writer Naomi Wolff and Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. When I was seven, I wrote a love letter to Stephen Hawking. He wrote back saying, “Jesus, I just can’t figure you out.” I had a room that was handmade to make me feel that magic was at all times of the night and day, a dependable, ever-ready option thanks, in part to the twinkling stars, comet trails, and cream-colored clouds that streaked across the infinite, midnight blue sky of my ceiling  that was painted by my mom when she was young, healthy, and still able to do things like wave to daddy’s video camera with daffy rubber-f
Read more

What Must Babies Think?

-
What must babies think, As they wonder why their Push pram rocket ship Which on most days thrusts them Into the universe of the fiery sky ball and chatter filled park Sits mothballed in the corner Staring at the wall like White-haired bench people Who always seem so Sad and forgotten? What must dogs think The Wal Mart greeters of the Animal world Who use the sign language Of the excitable nose and tail To communicate their borderline insane love for anything that moves When they trot out first thing In the morning like they’re in competition at Westminster Only to discover A show of silent concrete? What must jets think Who usually cannibalize people Until their bellies are full When the only in-flight meal Is a flight crew Two pilots And 900 steerage ghosts Who sit Without hope or destiny In the kind of Quiet That follows anyone Who has ever walked Away from a grave? What must birds think The cocky pigeons The Blue-header vireo Or the Y
Read more

When Ours Parents Are Gone

-
I have not spoken to my dad in over forty years. Years ago I turned my back on him and walked away and that was that. No, we didn’t have a fight. He died when I was 25 and that walk away came right on the beat at the conclusion of the service in the cemetery after we lowered him with sway and love deep into the womb of the ground, like a treasure chest, ceremonially buried in that family secret place that only we would ever know the location of. When you bury a parent, time suddenly becomes unfathomable, unreliable, it suddenly faints away like a delicate socialite into the landing strip of a waiting divan, from the searing heat of loss, Our parent’s final breath pushes us into a dimension of exquisite separation and inextinguishable pain, where everything still feels just within our reach but in truth is now as far away as the weeping moon. The cemetery only knows formality. The weathered stones, which, like the canvas of our souls, have epitaphs and life stories carved deeply into th
Read more