Reciprocated heavens gazed at
untouched lips of dawn.
The only question that I hold
Is how to climb the stairs
That lead to heights of godly fruits.
Why can we only share this land with birds
When they are pulled to earth?

Wearing my face to see the delicacy of native streets,
How much this soil has absorbed of our emotional dust
That glimmers with ethereal beauty.
Sometimes I realize our mothers carried us, untethered, from the realm of energy
Into the solidity of the world of matter.
And the reason for this pull through this vortex was an act of love.
And these streets are the final point
From which we are now brave.

Does light find its shelter when it’s turned off?