ice Ice the ice is coming Oh January, your cold, unforgiving, almost inhumane winds are tearing me apart My eyes are meant to see can’t ignore what the ice is doing to other eyes to other bodies to other humans to other lives “Take shelter,” I heard “Stay your ground” sounds like a threat to my already exhausted soul “The Ice is around the corner, just a piece of ice,” the message my eyes are tired of seeing and ears sad to hear Dear God, made of Goddesses and Gods, Is it true that the storm is coming? The storm that our abuelas talked about, the one that will sweep the Earth of ungrateful visitors? What about the brownies? What about the beans? And dark chocolate? And we can’t forget yellow mangos? Can you, Almighty of thousands of faces, painted in multiple colors, dressed with the same attire of the painter that gave you a face, please give us another chance? And to those who rejoice for the icy Ice coming to tear us apart and see it just as a piece of ice to justify its wants Can you keep them too? They are my brothers and sisters. I know the fear of cold ice arriving. I have seen the pain in Elders’ eyes, remembering when their ice was traded out. At the edge of a time unraveling, I ask for nothing else — only that you protect us all from the storm to come.
Poem by Lorena Saavedra Smith
Photo courtesy of Jessica Segall