I know I walk in and out of several worlds each day.

I listen to the gunfire we cannot hear, and begin this journey with the light of knowing the root of my own furious love.

My sister accommodates me, never reproaches me with her doctrine, never tries to change me. She accepts and loves me, despite our differences.

Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.

Remember the plants, trees, animal life who all have their families, their histories too. Talk to them, listen to them. They are alive poems.

I have more questions than answers in this world as do most poets and writers. The field of memory we exist in is absolutely encompassing and is both a question and answer. It is memory that provides the heart with impetus, fuels the brain, and propels the corn plant from seed to fruit.

Remember that you are all people and that all people are you.