Marvelous, The City

People speak of kindred spirits, of love at first sight

we do not speak of falling for a place of stone and steel,

of humus and heat, jungle-fevered passion filling lungs

with new air, cementing soul's bright blaze to new earth.

But when my heart sprouted new roots, tender and fine,

they danced out to the tune of the berimbau, wrapped

round mosaic pavers, through cardboard beds,

deep into the darkness of a city that never sleeps soundly.

Saudades crept into my bones. Bullets ricocheted through

my dreams. People of the shadows peopled waking hours,

under bridges of sorrow, I sang songs of hope

for those who clamored for less violent dreams.

You stole my heart suddenly, not as a pickpocket

slinking away. Your river of humanity strode boldly,

a daylight mugger demanding everything in my pockets,

offering only a glint of smiling steel in return.

And I gave it, handed over for the sweet communion

of contemplation, of belonging. In an underpass congregation

you taught me to see oneness, the bonds between us stronger

than possessions. The homeless and the housed broke bread.

In hard-packed earth, fertilized with tears and anxieties,

we made shelter grow up around us, flowering weeds

pushing up from the gaps in the cobblestones, upending

sidewalk concrete, life in reckless surge for the sun.

I remember you, oh city of my heart, and my imperfect love,

how in your arms I learned to waltz with danger on streets

named for ancient wars and broken destinies. You breathed

life into untested lungs, put words on my tongue.

People speak of kindred spirits, of love at first sight.

In my dreams, I haunt your becos and back alleys,

visit each remembered face, how they spread out like stars

glittering in the expanse of memory, of love and loss.