I under­stood mag­no­lia trees

mir­rored the beauty on my insides.

And taught me to relax into my roots.

 

 

This is the place where

we up-keep

esca­la­tors in public transit stations,

restrooms in public,

health care for all,

because we are in charge.

We’re running things ….

 

You and I,

your people,

my people,

we are bring­ing our

skills and wisdom

to

run

it all.

 

What do we do with the cars,

the roads, the fields, the crops, the cows, the sky scrap­ers, the food, the books, the poems.…

 

This is that world that we get to figure out

how to live with,

how to be in,

visions to be had and solu­tions to be practiced.

 We see solu­tions in the future our ances­tors dreamed of

through us.[1]

This place is a place that each of us came from. A place of the spirit.

 

An Akashic place

An ances­tors place

A uni­verse place

A story place

A tarot place

A creator place

A god or goddess place

A Dream­time place

A galaxy in the heart place

A vision­ary futurisms place

this unknown place

this chang­ing place

this is the place.

 

 

This is that place where we feel whole.

Where med­i­cine

is given when needed.

Where

the unique mechanics

and temples

of our bodies

are lis­tened to, com­mu­ni­ty held,

and for­ti­fied.

 

 

This is that place that only we can create.

 

It’s that place inside your­self where you journey to feel at home

and spot­light your reality

as a part of the plan­e­tary essence clothed sacred

by the teal, green, sienna seen from the moon.

 

This is the place where the lung

of the earth is being massaged

by a million ded­i­cat­ed healers.

 

Where we believe in our col­lec­tive magic,

witness, heal,

don’t dispose of com­mu­ni­ty, but actually 

trans­form for justice.

 

Where genders

as broad and col­or­ful as the cosmos

are loved on

waking up romanced

next to gender/body/sex pos­i­tive lovers.

 

Where sexual malaise is only a story of the past,

which has danced

away across our bones

like wind in cotton curtains

set free.

 

This is the place where the vault of reparations

veined through hearts, hand­bags, accounts, and lands

has been valved open 

and flowed through to new holders and deci­sion makers

who take space to heal post-trauma and salve the soma.

 

 

This is the place where native land keepers

Teach global stewardship

and we all bale up the border wire to sweep clean

the oceans.

 

It is here where water is puri­fied and kept running

for the rust belt,

detoxed of metals not meant for our buoyant minds.

 

 

It’s where the economy centers on the growth of the empaths gift

and meeting basic, beau­ti­ful needs.

 

 

 

Where chil­dren cannot be bombed.

Where a cease­fire happens now.

 

Where serendip­i­tous moments snap open

the mirage of the mundane.

 

This is the present moment

preg­nant with possibility. 

Holding the poten­tial energy of

A dream­scape so true

It dredges loneliness.

Sweet­ness not afraid of grit. 

Truth not suc­cumbed to convenient

lib­er­a­tion gently touched from the inside

cages shat­tered from the outside.

                           Stars in our hands.

Erotic depth in our moves.

A longed for bed we rise up from renewed

to love it

togeth­er

here.