NaPoWriMo#4: Tremors

Tremors
by Justine C. Tajonera

I felt a tremor at ten thirty this morning.
It was only a few seconds. I thought I had
just imagined it, feeling silly after having blurted, "Earthquake!"
at no one in particular, just acknowledging the swaying
of my desk, until I saw the news feeds on my computer.
I had a headache at the time. My mind was whirling
with war and product testing and dizzying changes
and my children and the merciless, pounding heat
of this summer and climate change that we attempted
to teach to our son.
I am standing at the edge of something.
I remember waking up at midnight on the 21st of December
2012 and looking out the window. It was hot for
December and I was wondering about the end of the world.
Perhaps it doesn't happen in one day.
I survive these little tremors every day, waiting for
the tsunami that doesn't come. But when it does,
I cannot yet imagine my grief much less picking up
pieces from what is left.
So I drink a glass of water and reach out to
the blankness of peace. I steady myself and breathe
and breathe and give thanks and breathe.

Mayday

Mayday

by Justine Camacho-Tajonera

"Be not a cancer on the earth — Leave room for nature — Leave room for nature."

- The Georgia Guidestones, Elbert County, Georgia, U.S.A.

The stones say that five hundred million can maintain balance
with nature, only five hundred million, no more and no less.
I watch my children sleeping, one is five and one is nearly two.
Are they one of the five hundred million? Are they the
seven out of the ten in the whole world?

When floods come and go and take our children with them
who can say why? Who can say that there was a reason?
Who answers for them? Who decides why it cannot be me
instead of them? Who will trade with me? Who will pack up
their dinosaurs and biscuits in their bags and wipe their tears?

The world turns, the stones creak, the core of the earth
burns hot (or cold, who is to say?), we orbit the sun,
we are pressed to the earth by laws of physics
whether our hearts are breaking or not.
Balance is not something to be persuaded.

It is a world of miracles and small wonders that I live in,
a bewildering mix of forces, of consequences, like our rooms
that flooded when we left our windows open yesterday.
I gather these two in my arms, I gather them as summer, as a
May Day in other parts of the world, imperishable in the heart.



Picture By AmpCoder (Own work) [CC-BY-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons