For Mama

Do you remember when we chased fireflies across the Serengeti? How we woke at dawn to find the cheetah queen, shining red like the sky? And how after that, Bobbing up and down with the clu-clunk of the land rover, The breeze of African morning staining each cheek, We held hands tight And couldn’t let go? We were like the sunrise finding its earth you and I, Pulled together by the curvature of the light And the flicker of the cheetah‘s run across the plains, Strings of your past and mine permeating inside each heart So that we could taste each other’s beat and Feel each other’s footstep. It has always been like this for us Now and Then. The experience of something age-old and secret A silent permutation from out there to into, Becoming part of our skin, Cells of history Radiating into us the awakening of today and each. Do you remember, How I climbed the mountain and you watched? How you, like a teacher threw me into the river, And hollered for me to swim, With chest floating between the clouds? And how when I came out sputtering, You gave me a towel, Dried me off, Then threw me back in? And I swam into you, Again and again, Between your embrace To feel your heartbeat, That was my heartbeat. To see your smile which formed mine. And everyday was filled with something new With the smell of articulated vowels Ah, Eh, Ay ya, Cha. From the kitchen to our mouths, To our blood that made me into that river and you into that mountain And us into the sky.