Marula trees shade tall tufted grasses.
Warthogs, elephants, and kudus eat.
When we press our ears to sandy soil,
we hear the footsteps of our ancestors.
We hear the buzz of microorganisms.
We hear chromosomes name descendants.
We hear mammals eat insects from fossils.
We have tails and fibers for hemispheres.
We remember our tails. We remember
oxygen, calcium, iron, and towers of dust.
We remember torches ablaze with wind.
We remember eyes opening this morning.
We remember fresh light from young stars.
We remember erosion, dispersion, and pain.
We remember wrinkled hands turning pages.
We remember toddlers twirling on soft rugs.
We remember baking cookies with raisins.
We remember grapes drying in the sun.
We remember round yellow amid leaves.
We remember root, bark, nut, and seed.
These are three poems from body, a poetry manuscript that challenges “myths of exceptional individualism as constructed within colonial and capitalist contexts.” I’ve chosen a range of three to represent some of the directions I’ve explored toward We – both human and environmental – in the collection. As our Environment is also a co-creator in our health, to me, highlighting its presence in our life and embodiment matters. To me, Earth is kin, and by making this more visible, we have more opportunity to realize that all humans are connected in this way too.
I so firmly share About Place Journal’s value to “promote an understanding of the interconnectedness of all living beings and this earth we share” toward more Justice that I’ve spent 15 years writing body – a unique poetry collection that locates the body as earth and the i as firmly interwoven with place and people. It has taken me a long time because of the ambitious nature of the work as well as professional and personal responsibilities like being a parent, but it’s done now and I’m just starting to submit it as a whole for publication.