FATHER'S DAY MAGIC

There are no disasters, only opportunities for great adventures.

This is the elemental magic that my Daddy would wield as effortlessly as breathing.

Our house had been stripped of every item that was not a part of the actual structure.

The overwhelming sense of loss left me staggered.

Magic thoughts sparkle behind peacock blue iris'.

My Daddy conjures a porch swing inside the living room.

I'm now flying through air that had been too thick to breathe.

Laughter escapes my chest that minutes before had been constricted.

How many people do you know that has a porch swing inside the living room?

PRESTIDIGITATION

No stove, no barbeque grill, a fire is kindled in our back yard.

I'm taught the mechanical incantation of a fire drill.

"Matches? We don't need no stinking matches."

My help is needed as meals are prepared, I'm included and busy.

Stories told around that fire do more than replace a missing television.

That is the beginning of a nightly ritual, I learn to speak the spells of our oral daily history.

I listen to my Daddy tell me our family's oral history through stories.

What I saw, what I learned at school, the games I played held equal place with his recital of work and social interaction.

How many people do you know that listens to each other, intently, parent and child?

INCANTATION

Gardening together grows more than fruits and vegetables, it makes family roots.

The knowledge and sense of achievement a child gains when his contribution adds to the evening meal is life altering.

The divination of planting by the moon goes along with ceremonies of weed pulling and husbandry of the soil.

Did you know onions and carrots are good neighbors , but tomatoes grow better near collards or potatoes?

We sleep at night with a contentment of tired bones and full bellies.

How many people do you know that spend time tickling the ground and then watch that ground laugh and blossom with food as a response?

SORCERY

Each week at the A&P grocery store, I was allowed to pick the jelly.

Bama jelly had jars that were factory painted and became drinking glasses when they're emptied.

I would pick the apple jelly even though strawberry was my favorite.

The apple jelly jars matched the one plate or bowl that we would buy each week.

Replacing the cursed dishes that had been stolen by the wicked witch, (he never said anything negative about her) , becomes talismans of security.

How many people do you know that trust a five year old to match decor?

CONJURATION

Everyday in prison , I tell myself, "this is not a disaster, this is an opportunity for adventure."

The thoughts of all I've lost is replaced with the airy lightness of freedom from stuff that once owned me.

A fire burns within me as I stay busy trying to tell stories that I'm now equipped for.

Oral history of my brothers and sisters in prison who need to be heard.

Growing deep roots of brotherhood with the men I've been planted next to brings a bumper crop of understanding.

Did you know that men from diverse backgrounds can yield good fruit together, given the right care?

Each week I'm allowed to choose which flavor of poetry I'll share.

Trusted to match the right words with the right people on the right occasions.

Thank you Daddy for the magic you've entrusted me with.

MAGIC IS THE WORD THAT DESCRIBES YOU BEST.