poem: anger becomes

Every now and then I post poetry on IG, and I’m going to try and cross-post them here too.

Originally posted 9.12.21 on IG, and originally written 6.30.21 for a prompt from Napa Women’s Circle & Victoria Fowler. “God is Change” is a quote from Octavia E. Butler’s Parable books.

I was once the gate you traveled through to the underworld, but
grapes become wine become vinegar;
trees become paper become revolution;
poison becomes antidote, only if you give it time.
I was your catalyst, trail of gunpowder set aflame, so
I am not the same anyone, just as
you are not the same anymore.

You cannot plant a seed and expect it to remain just a seed;
you cannot amputate a limb and be surprised it is not the same;
you cannot devour your anger and expect it to be unchanged.
God is change, you know this. The question then is,
how have I changed for having slept in your iron and bone
all these years? I am not the same, I know this, and I am
unbothered by it. The question then is,
will you take me in your palms, the same way you did
your despair, and see me for what I am? Will you
allow me into your home, will you let me take off my shoes
and rest awhile. You may not know my face anymore,
but I promise we will learn from each other.
I may not be deep sea, galaxy diving like your despair,
but I come bearing gifts all the same,
if only you would let me be your rite of passage again –
I may no longer be gunpowder set aflame,
but I can be stardust set alight,
and I long to see what I will become

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