Looking, See

Every time I sing,
“Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,”
I am back in Elementary,
A class where I am the newest,
Not feeling the belonging.
A class where everyone stands
Hands to foreheads, looking over
Me, because I am Jordan, and
Being so shy, uncomfortable,
Wishing
I could disappear,
Never to return, suddenly.
Those words, words always,
The beauty, treasure of music,
A reflection in me, chasing me,
Now, every day I have become, am,
A creature of words, meaning, using
The tension between love, fear,
To live,
Alive, creativity,
Imagination in each moment
Wherever it is I may come to be;
I am a wordsmith, poet, magic,
Wielding a trusty pen, keyboard,
Against forces which might be happy
To see me silent, hidden, gone from
The fight, but I must still
Write.
It is who I am, delight.
Now you, do not quit, never
Give up, words transcend our
Troubles, they illuminate what
Must be acknowledged,
With words we start
To circulate the powers
Of goodness, kindness, generosity,
Love,
Into all those places where
Positive change can invade
Sending doubt, fear, darkness away.
So unleash your heart, soul,
Create,
Be courageous, bold, the world
Awaits our creativity to
Unabashedly unfold.