a poem a day in the month of may

day 12: kinship

I’m looking forward to this one, friends.

What do you think of when you think of kinship?

I went to look up definitions of the term, and realized how truly limiting it is. Kinship isn’t just about blood relations or family, but a deep tethering.

So, let’s shrug off the definitions and dig deep to ask what this word evokes in us.

Kinship

I wrote once that kinship is a string,

a tether from me to you and you

and you and you,

to that ant and Grandmother Moon.

Kinship is a belonging,

a connected center of gravity

that pulls us ever toward

one another and beyond.

Kinship is magic.

So then, what isn’t kinship?

Abuse,

narcissism,

neglect,

ego,

hate.

Within these things,

kinship is lost, and most difficult

to regain.

And yet, we’ve all been affected,

both by what kinship is and what it isn’t.

We’ve all known the pain and the belonging.

So, we keep going.

We look to our heart center,

and we look to each other’s,

and in the process,

we tell our stories with such

ferocious care, such

gentle and fierce honesty,

that in the midst of it all

we cannot help but 

acknowledge how much 

we desperately and utterly

belong to ourselves,

to one another,

to those ants, 

to Grandmother Moon.

Iw, amen, for the power of kinship.