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Spiritually Homeless

I do not live where I was meant to,

where my ancestors cared for lands,

just as the lands cared for them too.

I do not live in a place, shaped by creator’s hands.

I do not live where I was born to,

where my parents happened to be,

when their love was new.

I do not live in the place that created me.

Instead, I allow my roots to grow,

down into cracked sidewalk concrete,

and yet, somehow, I know,

I do not feel at home in city streets.

Instead, I let my roots live

with the souls of people who resemble me,

and if I have some space to give,

I know in their hearts, my home, will be.

(In response to my earlier poem homelands, if that poem is how things are supposed to be, then this is how they actually are. To me, spiritually homeless is to be disconnected from the land you originate from. However, there is hope for making a new spiritual home in our connections with others. )

The Astral Plains

welcome to the astral plains

where the people of my nation have the reigns

and the authority

to act with disdain and superiority

but we will not

because unlike YOU, we thought

about how our actions

could leave land, languages and cultures in fractions

so instead

on the astral plains, we tread

so gently

and consequently

ALL cultures, languages and land

are treated with a kind hand.

a sci-fi paradise

not built on anyone’s sacrifice

via Daily Prompt: Astral

Real Talk

self-love and acceptance through honest conversations about identity

Erica DeCima

Once a foster child, Always a foster child

EGO TO ECO

Environmental Justice | Indigenous Rights