Inspired

There’s a book of poems written by somebody’s father

Which reminds me in between the impenetrable sounds

That there’s something more than fear and smallness

and a Subway on the corner to write down thoughts and dreams

There’s a book of poems written by somebody’s grandfather

not destroyed by life and hurt

Which reminds me that there were women like me, before

who kept their hearts in tact

their vision in sight

their armor down low

There’s a book of poems written by somebody’s husband

which reminds me good men exist

Prayers are always answered

the sun remains throughout the night

There’s a book of poems written by somebody’s son

which reminds me no matter how far from home we venture

Never are we abandoned nor forsaken; dearly loved and cherished

There’s a book of poems written by somebody’s friend

which reminds me we all have purpose

Beloved is the sacred we

nothing has been in vain

It all begins now

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