Reconcile: from the Latin reconciliare (to bring together again), from re (again) + conciliare (to make friendly, conciliate)
Dead grasses hide the cityscape.
Death becomes life becomes
A continual process we forget
because we are all about now,
all about the waters poured
into us from birth, our own water
no longer the sea that shapes us.
Dead grasses lead the way
to the place where alchemy
happens, where water and metal
tell the story we need to feel
This poem was written after a visit to the John Hope Franklin Reconciliation Park in downtown Tulsa. To learn more about the park, visit the JHF Center. To see a slide show of the photos I took at the park, click the link below: