these last two mornings

i have had persistent

visitors

two lizards

who parade before me

in my mediation space

are they ancestors

i wonder

especially the smaller

with tail missing

what is the difference

between

belief and superstition

ancestors appearing in dreams

or a white man nailed on a cross

religion versus paganism

a heaven we hope to reach in death

an animal killed to appease

colonial evangelism has given

us a definition

to which even the most progressive

adhere

i bang on the floor and

the lizards scamper

if you are an ancestor

with a message deliver

it and be on your way

they dash away

but soon return

we observe each other

their eyes are better than mine

with their acute color vision

i know they are harmless

although as a child I was

terrified

my older sister and brother

would catch them with

the slender leaves from the

coconut bough and toss

them at me

as my heels touched

my bottom as i sprinted

my voice bellowing

a crocking lizard

lived on the ledge

in our bedroom and

at night would just

carry on its dirge-like song

i was certain it was looking

down and would spring

on me

i was too old to sleep with

my mother and my sister

ran me from her bed

so i took my pillow and sheet

and slept in the bath tub

as there were never any lizards

in there

the only lizards i didn’t fear

then were the pretty

turquoise blue ground

lizards that could

not climb

don’t know

how or when it occurred

but lizards and i arrived at a truce

they no longer illicit any fear

i approach and chide them

for being in my spot

admonish them for

not catching all the mosquitoes

that bite or the insects that invade

my house

i drive them from hiding behind

my numerous pictures

i remind them they are welcome

on the verandah or patio

but are forbidden to enter

my bedroom

the lines of demarcation

have been drawn since childhood

II

lizards are reptiles

with scaly skin

these cold-blood creatures

bask in the sun to recharge

i’ve always thought they are

left-over baby dragons

but harmless

the poor lizard

more fraid of you

my mother would say

trying to lessen my phobia

she who feared nothing

there are said to be

5000 different kinds

and are known to shed

their tails when

in danger

they lay eggs

and their hatchlings

–baby lizards– spring up

some do have a venomous bite

but it’s not toxic enough

to harm us humans

aside for a little pain

although

they climb and sprint

leave their hard black stool

everywhere

they are ubiquitous throughout

the Caribbean

so you might as well

make friends with them

even the large iguanas

who climb my mango trees

and devour the best of my mangoes

but have no sense about crossing

the road i stop and shoo them to safety

of course

i have not encountered

a komodo dragon

that averages about 175 lbs

and grow as large 8’ 5’’

and actually attacks humans

they don’t live where i live

for now my two friends

wait and pose for my camera

perhaps this is the message

after all from my ancestors

befriend your fear

and coexist

with the lizards and all…

coming out of the bakery

with my bush tea and salt-fish pate

i saw her sitting on the steps across the street

holding the white baby-dolly

draped in a dirty cloth

and she was right out of my head

a story i’ve been writing

about her

about women like her

about myself

about all of us who are really her

i wanted to go to her and ask

how the baby doing

what a pretty child

she looks just like you

but i was reluctant

to even acknowledge her

least what she has

rubs off

catches me too

the line of demarcation

sane to insane

home to homelessness

so thin

almost invisible

to many

and as i sat in my car

i thought i should photograph her

document the moment

how she walked from my head onto the street

but i know in every city

on many streets

there are these women and men

whose chord on life is so taut

sometimes it snaps

and they become those

we see and shake our heads in quiet understanding

or we suck our teeth at in disgust

too afraid of what they remind us

or would prefer to forget

or we snicker at them thinking

dem so stupid

look how she mek a little thing break her

she not the first to loose a child

she not the first man leave

all the things we tell ourselves

to distance ourselves

to not see that she is us

the same one/the same us

i don’t know her specific story

this comely young black woman

sitting on the steps in Christiansted

this Friday morning

cradling the white dolly baby

as if it is her child

maybe she was raped

maybe she is a victim of incest

maybe she could not have a child

maybe she took drugs and her children

were taken from her

maybe she just wants to sit there

cuddling the dirty dolly baby

that she found somewhere

or maybe someone gave her

i don’t know

but i want to you

i want to sit with her

and just listen

and believe every word

she tells me

for every word is

her truth

All too often we go about our day

without thoughtful consideration

to the people who work  hard

to make our daily routine

much easier

the men who pave the roads

so that we are able to get about

with greater easy and speedy

the women who clean our offices

those who ensure that we have electriciy

gas for our car

water to bathe

the countless nameless people

who do what they do

so many of us can move about

with greater easy and convenience

who have you thanked today

for whom have you offered a prayer

whose sweat and blood are

in the house or building that shelters you

who soul is on the pavement on which you tread

All too often

when we think of great monuments

we are in awe of the architect or engineer

but without the workers

those nameless

often thankless masses

who toiled

most with little or no reward

we would not have these

emblems of civilization

so let’s thank

the so-called

small person today

who works tirelessly

so that we can have

the life we enjoy

let’s say thanks

and offer prayers

daily for all of them

and their family

let’s priase our ancestors

for surviving so we

are here today.

Ase

Each day and every moment

you get to decide who and what

you are and what you are willing

to name your experiences and adventures

and they become what you call them

you become and are perceived as the person

you name yourself

who you are and what are are about

is not a popularity contest

you do yourself an injustice

when you play the numbers game

your job is to do you work and think

of one other person with whom

you  can have a positive meaningful

impact and if and when you do

then you’ll have succeeded

you’ll have released an oil well

and your only name is good

now allow that seemingly small triumph

to propel you to more

but remember the more

must always be measured

by the one

if your deeds embolden one person

then there are no limits

continue to work diligently

continue to do good work

that will live after you

and continue to honor

who and what you are

by standing always

in a place of respect…

Honor Thy Self

and all else will follow