The Sounds of Weightlessness

Rhododendrons reveal

whiteness, 

while

sun cascades 

clipping and casting

shadows on suburban

homes and dreams

And birds flit

faster 

it seems these

days,

louder too.

Can they

see it all? 

Can they

hear it all?

Better still,

can WE?

The panic

The injustice

The illness

The void

The meaning

Do they carry 

messages to one

another 

wondering,

purposefully

plotting

how to get us to 

not just notice

this, 

but also

to vote on this?

Can we hear it?

The invisibility

cloak 

of privilege

and pride

serves as a

weighted blanket

for some,

therapeutically

quelling

discomfort

lullabying

that there is

"nothing more

to be done here"

After all,

'it's just awful'

and 

'such 

a shame'

Clucks of

the tongue

team up with

disgusted

shakes of

the head
clearing space 

so folks can 

get back in

line at 

home

depot 

for potted

plants and 

grass seed

and I wonder

what's the most

important thing

to grow?

And the 

birds hang

out in the 

garden center

too, you know

they see it all
and 

their chatter 
is everywhere
for those who
truly listen

I'd like

to think

they're all

abuzz 

about the 

phoenix

rising up in

the streets

Aware

that enough 

is finally 

enough 

and the 

time to pivot

and shift 

has arrived

we can all learn to 
fly 

yet, the terror

that paralyzes

those who

have been long 

served through 

flowers, blankets

now stand

naked, afraid

But this, my friends

is how we are born.

And it

also how

we will 

be born 

again:

weightless