A love letter to my soul warriors,
my gracefully gifted family, the one that chose me —
From the campfire starters,
To the marshmallow roasters
my dawn break-dancers,
And yappy hour toasters,
To the bright sparks who ignite more than flames,
Who call you back to remember
More than the roles you inherited,
beyond your job title, more than your name—
They call you Court. They call you Julie. They call you Sara.
But You are so many names.
Freda. Jackie. Jennie. Deb.
You are Grace. You are Power.
You are All. The. Things.
And I call you Friend.
I lean upon you, and you upon me.
Ours is a love forged in fire
Stronger than tsunamis
Ravaging seas.
This is for my midnight whisperers
still awake in their bunks
and the all-night snorers
Obliviously keeping everyone else up.
To you, the luggage schleppers who conquer the hills
For My dedicated camp rangers, holding down the field.
And especially to all my tough bitches
even cancer couldn’t yield.
For you who held vigil on the ground
For me on that tight rope up in the air
When Katie’s “Keep going. You got this!”
Rang louder than my fear.
To the truth you honor, to your
heart beating free, on the soils of Ojai
Nurturing that promise to your inner child,
To become who you were always meant to be.
This is for my tribe planting beautiful seeds,
Whose sheltering branches we may never rest under,
But still grow to become beautiful trees.
You make it impossible
to keep from harvesting
This storied Magic
dwelling within my bones.
For the ones that walked with me,
Those who carried me through
You have my back. My front. All my sides too.
I call you Lifeline.
