A new poem/meditation of mine, “May Our Voices Be,” is now published on the Unitarian Universalist Association’s WorshipWeb site. Check it out here!
You matter. There is no one like you; never will be again, from the birth of the earth to its outermost end. You — an eager shout, a sacred “Yes!” that moves your flesh, your bone, your breath. You — she, he, ze, they, you are whole and okay, gracefully teaching your truth and your way. You cannot be forgotten. We cherish you so. Your voice and your hands can do more than you know. You see old things anew. You turn them and test them. Your wonder exhausts our old words to express them. You speak and lay bare all you dig up and hold aloft from the dust of conventions grown cold. You up-end every rock and pursue every glimmer and give a new name to each sparkle and shimmer. You chart out new paths, go beyond our horizons: new friendships, new stories, your hope always rising. You, welcome and wanted, whatever your skin, wherever the neighborhood you were born in. You play across fences that keep us divided. Old walls become weak where your love is ignited. You call us to kindness and questions, reminding: the life of our living is found in the finding. You! There is no one like you; never will be again, from the birth of the earth to its outermost end. You matter. You do. We’ll keep learning with you. Now stand on our shoulders. See what you can do.
First published on www.matthewsrosin.com and YouTube, 2017.
“Where one can no longer love, there one should pass by.” Though memory aches for former shapes, pass not that way again. Human curves and fingerprints should not be cast in corners. The huddled form is not for you. Pass not that way again. Where surprise has fallen mute, there no gods will grow. Those spirits have all lost their breath. Release their spent air from your lungs. Fever dreams too tightly held deserve only your tears. Lay to ground their will to death. Pass not that way again. Steps ahead, voices resound that beckon us to being, forgive us our misshapen pasts, and welcome us in changing. “Where one can no longer love, there one should pass by.” Though memory turns to clasp cold lips, pass not that way again.
Published as lyrics for Cindervoice’s Before the Turn LP, 2010. Includes quotation from Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Walter Kaufmann translation.
How long can you hold your breath? Two minutes? Two thousand years? The city sits upon your neck— snakes, so still suspended upside-down in drinking water— saliva now a nutrient feeding grand machines. Modern industry rushing past your memory, quaint, unthreatening fragment of nostalgia that you are; frozen, beheaded as you are.
Published as lyrics for GODHEADSCOPE’s Patience EP, 2011.
I still lie on my side of the bed. The dog still curls in the place she curled when she curled behind your legs. Her ears stand up at every sound and my heart leaps to meet you. I am aching for the day I forget to grieve. The column of moonlight from the window over the bed illuminates every speck of dust; every memory overhead. Every moment I think of you is a moment I won’t sleep. I am aching for the day I forget to grieve. I still lie on my side of the bed. The dog still curls in the place she curled when she curled behind your legs. You were the reason I looked ahead. Now the future haunts my dreams. I am aching for the day I forget to grieve.
Published as lyrics for Cindervoice’s Forget To Grieve single, 2014.