Time flows by
and, after your six-month sojourn south,
we once again connect
via telephone.
"How is K?" everyone wants to know
when I share the fortune of our conversation.
Or, we meet up in Sacred Time,
at yet another activist fundraiser,
mirroring eachother's beauty,
we hug as you say, "He's hot!" about the
peaceful warrior at my side. "Yeah," I chirp,
then slide into proclaiming embodiment as the most
radical act of rebellion now.
My sisters
how your bee-ing
fuels me.
I ride over to the Rooted Living house, where you let me borrow
your computer as I distract myself with our uproarious
laughter and comedic antics. "What was I doing?" I shake my head
in abandon. Nap time comes easily.
Today, it's your dirty thirtieth birthday, sweet soul sistah, M.
Tonight, we hold ritual and ceremony to honor You.
And, time flows by....
