by Marjorie Levin
(Gilberto’s 75th Birthday)
She was eleven and radiated a girl confidence.
She spoke in Spanish but the praise for her father was so clear
that individual words weren’t needed to understand.
(Last Wednesday)
She is very fragile and cries in the middle of her happy life.
It’s over the tired but heavy slights that just don’t go away.
The mother that never was and oh that very same father.
(It Happened About 18 Months Ago)
She explained to me her baptism.
Coming from her people- never a god or God in sight.
She found Jesus Christ to be her savior.
And she wears a large key to keep that day firmly in mind
and keep her new families firmly attached.
(Singing)
Theirs are amazing voices full of grace. Really.
If voices could love, these do.
It seems they rise and fall in study and in song.
They pray in song together.
What are they looking for?
What do they hear when it’s found?
She is like the baby- at thirty-three
With the clear chimes of a girl calling out to her life.
But she has that already and it arrives soon.
I’m a lifelong designer.
I’m trying out writing as a different route to designing answers.
I have always designed visual answers to solve specific problems.
I am trying to shred the visuals and glue them back together in words.