abuelito you were once a priest
abuelito you were once a priest
so in every church, in every country, in every continent
my mother & i stumble into we light a candle for you & our
hearts ache & weep for your comfortable silence, your soft smell
& nimble hands to cradle us my mother yearns for it more
than me but like my grandpops your body is trapped
beneath the bedrock i need you to reach your hand from it
to hold mine god is an afterthought to me now, a sad man
sad image we’ve been tricked into loving but you served
him til’ your last slow breath & all my memories of you are tucked
into him & all my memories of the beauty of him tucked into you
but you’ve been gone for years now & i never truly loved him when you
were slow stepping your way on this earth but i accepted him
& accepted him more with you alive & mumbling about the beauty of his gospel
his psalms & his word i want to ask you about Gaza about the holy
land see the state of the world through your eyes because like god
i felt like you were wise & all knowing even when you pretended to look
the other way or not comment on the troubled souls of your son & daughter
but seeing the full picture plotted out like a movie in front of your quiet
blue eyes anyway you’re presence glue, binding us all in
warm love without you we are battling with how to love one another
again
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The rhythm of your lines are really great–this poem is both personal and political in a way that invites the reader in.