But come here, Fear. / I am alive! / And you are so afraid / of dying.
My generation is now the door to memory. That is why I am remembering.
I listen to the gunfire we cannot hear, and begin this journey with the light of knowing the root of my own furious love.
There is no poetry where there are no mistakes.
Someone accompanies every soul from the other side when it enters this place. Usually it is an ancestor with whom that child shares traits and gifts
There is no separation. We are all from the same place. As long as there is respect and acknowledgement of connections, things continue working. When that stops we all die.