A collaborative poem for Corita Day, with words contributed by participants and assembled by writer and educator, Matthew Burgess.
Inspired by Aracelis Girmay.
You are who I love,
checking the air on my tires
You, lost in thought
You being perfect just the way you are
Dancing in the yard with such joy
You are who I love, jumping
from sofa to chair to ground as you battle
imaginary foes
You who knows no stranger
You who tend the earth
You learning to surf at age eight,
sitting underwater, calling yourself an ancient
Egyptian name
You who noticed the beaver in the park
You smiling at me with paint on your hands, in your hair
You keeping your nose warm
You crying in the bedroom, impatient, tired, hungry
You are who I love
Wondering about a mystery cross on a white wall
You are who I love,
You as a victim, quiet and observing —
You, still my friend.
You my difficult ones who make me grow
You who hold me up when I feel down
You who laugh at my jokes
You, alone in stony echoes
You, sharing friendship and love
Growing whole boats of plants from single stems
You try and try and try and you succeed
You, who helps me navigate the healthcare system
for my 95 year-old father
You are who I love
Trying every day with every ounce to believe
Letting me sit extra close and nuzzle into the fur in your collar
Always with a furrowed brow, the weight of the world
on your beautiful young face
You are who I love
You who are my person
You working hard
You the light of my heart
You laughing with me
You who brings the candle lit to my table
You sick, you well
You are there
You who smells of freshly cut alliums lingering on my fingers,
You who sit on a swing, making my Saturdays delightful,
You love so that we can be generous always
You whose heart is always full of love and willing to forgive
You playing a tune like a clear bell on a simple gourd instrument
on the street outside the park
You, building toward an unknown future, insulating
old thin walls for warmer times
There once was a girl who knew love with no bounds
You, who knew me
I love the person you are becoming
You, old tree, who lets your gold fall at at once after a hard frost
You speaking to me through the acts of kindness of others
You sitting quietly
You are who I love
You who row your boat in the dark
You who sings like an angel
You in your bunny boxer shorts, not caring who sees you
going to the mailbox
You are who I love
The one who notices beauty everywhere you go,
smiling at me each time we pass
You, bringing an old friendship forward to the present,
laden with the history and loss we each bear
You writing words of love to me
even if it was hard, confusing, ended–
I still believe you did.
You my favorite person, who I love,
You are why I’m me.
You are who I love, finding the beauty in small things,
balancing me out, being grumpy when I am not
You, moving closer to Heaven
Hiding under the dining room chair, writing messages
You are who I love
You, mending hearts with kind words,
peeling the persimmons to prepare a purée for the pan bread
You walking away
You who tell me everyday you will pray for me
You making family reunions into Celebrations with music and art
You who wonders who are creating while I do
You are who I love
Bravely sharing your whites and reds so swiftly,
playing the piano, one of mom and dad’s favorite tunes
You smiling at anyone’s presence, opening
your eyes and letting me in
You with a freckled face and vocal stims and disconnect with the world
You are who I love!
Steaming the beets, caring for us and others,
Telling a story, you are who I love
You trying to live by your own rules
You, alone
You in the chair that moves with your feet
You say everything is an experiment
You are sweet fruit, jellybeans and chocolate
You who are part of the IHM community,
who gave me the grace to become who I am today
I see a cascade of love and history and care
and creativity when we meet
You are who I love, who I miss so dearly
You struggling and loving the best that you can
You who cry
You are who I love
You who saves ‘til messy rooms demand attention
You gardening with love
You who breathe and blink
You doing your best
You helping me to get myself and others to places
because I can’t keep track of my own time and many promises to others
You setting the groundwork for who I become
You who know love has no bounds
You are who I love, packing our kale and bread
and eggs into our canvas bag with care, a smile, a story
and a “take care” every time
You sitting watching tv, you driving very carefully,
You cooking dinner with way too much food,
you whether cheerful or in a sad mood
You who worry about dying stars and boiling planets
You smiling at me and I know you are proud
You with your boat, your sure hand at the rudder
You are needed for our world is broken
You are who I love
You are me when you walk among the trees,
wandering through the colors, the pathways
and the rhythms that summon the marigolds
You always napping in the sunny spot
You who loves popcorn
You, who–at 97—bring so much joy to all who encounter you
You, bursting with life, an incendiary force,
vibrating wildly
You are who we love.
–November 21, 2021