April Collaborative Poem

Today I choose to rise,

to meet my neighbors where they are,

to write it all down:

I rise in early spring, like sap through xylem, to resurrect the green.

Cast, creed, or religion doesn't matter, or beg to differ, to where the wound belongs,

In the greening field, thick with winter’s regret.

December is the crueler month, with its promises of peace, salvation.

One sound, resounds, harder to break down, turn away, turn down, link the sounds, our singing,

ringing, together, make it true.

The atoms in me recognize the atoms in you, even if we can’t see any stars.

Today I choose to love and invite the community around me to do the same.

She tells me to "stay open," my neighbor who lost her brother, her father,

within months -- she heard, as she was driving, a voice say "look up,"

and she did, through the tree canopy, and felt their presence.

This is where we hear their heart's true sound,

To clear the pathways of memory in a sprawling orchard of words.

How mindfully they invested loving kindness.

I rise today to feed those I love, those in need, those who are strangers, for through food we can

all connect.

Neighbors near and far, known and unknown, I raise you up in prayer.

Today we stand together.

I'm anything alive and aching that wants to be held and heard.

We gathered in a little boat, sharing oar duty as we skimmed across the lake.

And in that early morning wings and wind cast me forward,

To move ahead beyond the convex mirror of Time and pursue the threshold of Oneness and

dreams,

To show up as love, generously to serve my community when my spirit leads me to show up.

We owe some form of truth to the future. Our voices live on in words.

Tomorrow I may break a pen or an ankle, but today carries the water.

I choose the faith and patience of crawling forms,

sticking their neck out to protect their neighbors, retuning geese.

I will write the truth, follow its lead, even if fearful to go.

No fear, or may I say, I will take any fear and steal its sway.

At the crosswalk, a clown in body armor and a painted smile offers forget-me-nots,

the splish splash of spring puddles, the bird song, the smiles,

To sing their sorrows, dance their joys.

When buds bloom open, the air a song,

Dissolve our fences, my basket filled with love.

Today I let the stars crust in my palms; the dust they leave, I sprinkle on words.

— Written together during National Poetry Month, 2026

NAMES