dear ______,
I keep having these dreams
and in these dreams
(((we were surrounded by each other)))
and in one of these dreams, I wrote this poem for you called:
“;;;about a lineage;;:”
And it begins by firmly stating that
the inability to articulate a notion does not make that idea
any less real
In fact,
It begs us to ask:
who does categorization serve?
we reject notions of genre,
and in doing so
we do as we’ve always
done :
skirting prescribed curriculum
with oral tradition
rhythm
and the treasured responsibility of honoring those who inform our spirit.
those who provide us
with the context for recognizing “home”
not as a destination
but as a sense of being.
something rory and omar’s rubaiyats remind us to do.
something you taught me how to do without ever saying a word.
in keeping with the natural order of things,
i have found that speaking out loud to ancestors feels
increasingly comfortable as I grow older -
serving as somewhat of an unconscious daily ritual at this point.
I hope we never forget that worldbuilding is a necessary means for survival.
imagining not as a means of escape but as a form of grounding -
cultivating a tangible reality based in collective care and support.
I’m trying to slow down and remember that
understanding and growth
emerge only from and through the
unyielding yet reliable processes of time.
anyway - as usual i carry on
I hope you’re well and that I can see you soon.
I miss being
Next to you.
with love,
andrew
photo by soen settani