Poem: On Returning from the Old World

On Returning from the Old World
On a plane, at great height
Thankful for the return flight
Between the movies and the snacks
Quiet moments to relax.
To contemplate.
On the new path back from the old world
An emotion emerges, unfurled
Of loyal contentment to a home.
A place where my place has grown.
Possessed.
I reflect on ancestors on the sea
A far less quiet journey than me.
Who knew less
of such a sense
A risk taken,
their place forsaken
for Opportunity.
I'm mindful of their greedy sins
In grabbing theirs, anxious to win
A race. In which so many lost.
the generations still pay the cost.
The privilege now infects the place.
My privilege. Ours. A painful space.
And Yet.
Our demise is not foretold
For we have two hands with which to hold
The disquiet of remorseful anger.
The audacity of the healing hope.
Acting Together.
Between the worlds, both can be true
If only we can embrace the work to do.
Back home.