Up On the Monolith

００１

Ａ　ｓｐｏｋｅｎ　ｗｏｒｄ　ｐｏｅｍ　ｔｉｔｌｅｄ：　

Ｔｈｅ　Ｓｕｎ

"Give two descriptions of your parent/s."

[Created & performed during the parent-son retreat on February 2nd, 2019]

—          —          —

 As a result of moving through ten different homes in four different countries, I've been an emotionally & affectionately awkward child. 

You see, for the past seventeen years I've been on this earth, I don't think I've ever once been able to show my affection and gratitude for my mother, so I've taken this opportunity to create this spoken word poem.

You see, my mother's nickname, "Rica," is derived from the remaining syllables of her given name "Maria Angelica." But for me, her nickname begins with the first letter of each, which is

 "Ma."

And I chose to represent my mother as:

The Sun.

That very same sun that grants life, warmth and love to all things she touches, gracing the world with her presence. 

She projects a blinding light that shines through glass pane windows that people mistake for God's call of inspiration and wisdom and I—

am privileged to say that her light has graced me for nearly every single day of my life.

And even though she doesn't say it to my face, I hear her say it when she checks up on me.
When she says she loves me,
kisses me,
says good night to me. 

She says:

"If you'll be my star, then I'll be your sky. 

You can hide underneath me 'til you come out at night. 

And I'll turn jet black, just to show off your light. 

I live to let you shine.

And if you'll be my boat, then I'll be your sea. 

A depth of pure blue just to probe curiosity. 

Ebbing and flowing, and pushed by a breeze. 

I live to set you free."

And much like the sun, it simply provides without asking for anything in return— unmovable and irreplaceable. 

Impossibly resilient and impossible to escape or erase from. An ever-lasting presence that tenderly watches over you.

And yes. She can be overbearing at times. 

Like if you stare into the sun for too long or—

if you stay out past 10AM you might get the occasional skin cancer, 

but even through everything, even after dad left, even though every single day when I come home and you aren't there, 

I am... 

still always happy to know that even at the dead of night, the sun will rise.

And the dawn will come.