Old woman on the hill
Just a five minute drive away now but
Continents and conflicts separating our ancestors
Pogroms in eastern europe chasing your parents to hollywood
Poverty and opportunity calling my elders from farmland
Your ancestors enduring more than I’ll ever know
Mine too

Perhaps this vastness is too much to overcome
For our tiny hands to hold together
I hear the pain of your ancestors when you speak to me
And it calls out in the fury in mine
Wanting to have ease and consistency and love
Without criticism, without hoarding
Maybe that’s how your ancestors lived

My grandmother still keeps every take out container,
Wears old shirts from my cousin’s boyfriend
Drinks coffee from a twenty year old mug

I grew up in so much abundance that I don’t want to
Fall into the darkness of scarcity that you
Seem to propose
My ancestors already outgrew this so that I didn’t need to
Escape its shackles myself
I don’t want to surrender to the thing you are proposing
It’s small and I don’t want to be small

I want to be vast, powerful, impactful
Touching all with abundance
Don’t project your fear or judgment onto me for wanting this
Life of sustainability and joy and abundance