Rare are the moments
When the world is quiet.

When the whirl of the blades
From your ceiling fan
Sends waves through the curtains
And the pages of your books

Rare are the moments
When the world is quiet
Enough for you to feel as though
You are the only human alive

There is no Instagram
No music
No Netflix

Is anything happening
Beyond your four walls?
If anything were
Would it truly matter?

An image of your mother’s
Smooth brown skin
And her gap-toothed smile
Appears as she sits at her
Computer desk
A stack of papers
On either side
As she struggles to remember
Everything she doesn’t want to forget

And then there’s your sister
Hovering over a pot of noodles
In her t-shirt and spanks
Stirring the pot
Trying not to doze off
Before getting to her hair

And your other sister
with her kinky curly hair
walking to work
And walking home
Counting each step that brings
Her closer to the direction
she dying to go

And your brother
Whose heart hides so deep inside
It takes you a moment to find
his goodness. His sweet high pitched voice
that matches those of the birds and
his ability to pick up any instrument
and make it sing

And your father
Your father with his deep chocolate skin
that shines without the sun.
The man who changes with the decade
and dedicates his life to living

They are out in this world
And they matter.