hearthless

poem, poetry | wolf's moon, california wildfires, homes, embers, building, total destruction

Under this Wolf’s Moon,
In conjunction with a bright star,
I confess:
I am not a daughter of Mars.
I throw down my arms,
And pick up stones.

I stack these pebbles,
One by one,
Hope by hope,
And dream by dream.

When it teeters and towers
To touch the heavens,
I will be worthy
To cross the threshold
Into a hearth and home;
A place protected

From creatures waiting,
Saliva dripping
From insatiable maws,
Eyes like embers burning.
They ride the desert winds
That steal
The oasis away
From my cracked 
and calloused hands.

Those eyes catch
My life’s work,
My birth certificate,
My half forgotten knick-knacks,
My wedding dress,
My grocery store receipts,
The weird dust in the corner
Of my room I can never quite sweep up,
and the old school notebooks
That I will never read again.

It is all consumed
In this fury and fire
Of a jealous gaze
Reduced to ash.

And ashen I stand
To see stone towers
Crumbling everywhere.

Notes: This poem is about the destruction of the California wildfires. I’m borrowing from the Japanese idea of children who die before their parents. Basically, these children must prove their worth by building stone towers in order to cross to the other side of the river, otherwise they remain in hell where creatures/oni might devour their souls. Usually, there is a sympathetic bodhisattva (O-Jizo-sama) to help these lost children, but in this poem, I wanted to emphasize the almost Sisyphean task of rebuilding again and again after disaster.

I will probably write an article to go more in depth about the value of a house in Japan and the USA later.

Having a house in California for many is currently unattainable including for people that bought them decades ago. For the common person, a house is a years or decade long process of saving money and getting loans and praying for a lucky break. To have one is to have a sense of security that can protect you from the capriciousness of landlords. For many Californians, houses are where you grow your financial nest egg. Unfortunately, they have become commodities for investment corporations to flip and sell to the highest bidder instead of places for shelter, rest, and protection for people.

I have nothing but my sincerest condolences for those that have lost their homes in these wildfires.

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