My Litany of Scars
“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”
—Rumi
On the path that kept burning was my heart.
The Divine knocked on the door
not once or twice, but continuously,
so I asked about the scar on my shin,
kicked by a foot
kicked by a foot in a shoe
kicked by a foot in a shoe with cleats
how will the light enter?
I asked about the faint echoes on my arms
left by tape
left by tape wrapped round
left by duct tape wrapped round and round
the tearing sound
so I couldn’t move
so I stayed in place
how will the light enter?
There are ridges on my ears
bitten
bitten by teeth
bitten by teeth that belonged
bitten by teeth that belonged to a man
who claimed the label husband,
a husband beastie
with sharp sharp teeth
how will the light enter?
On the path that kept burning was my heart.
The Divine knocked on the door
not once or twice, but continuously
and the light entered
through a dried leaf shriveled brown
how it moved
how it moved with wind
how it moved with wind and skittled scuttled
across an ordinary sidewalk
past a broken piece of glass
a piece of trash, forgotten in the morning
a piece of forgotten trash
on a cold morning where the clear sky
no longer hurt so I closed my eyes
and the light entered.
Credo
I believe in the sun and moon Orion in the sky
that light shining through broken glass overcomes evil
that the cooling waters of the ocean heals
that most people try that those who hurt others
cannot see into themselves
I believe in making pacts and prayers and ofrendas
that a flower’s beauty never dies but stays
to fortify and strengthen that when we love more
than one person the universe speaks to us in dreams
in dreams the afterlife is just those who have hurt others
are forgiven even so I believe it would be all right
to lock them up for a good long time
in a place without light dank empty
I believe in my mother’s love that my father
held me close in a crooked way that when it rains
he falls through sky and waits as water on a leaf
I believe water heals every day that the moon shines
through a skylight just for me that the sun’s corona
clears smog from the air and from my lungs
I believe that I can breathe clear even in the most trying times
a cloud weaves a wave rolls stones crumble
if a piece of broken glass shines on the sidewalk
and a wind catches one loose leaf I believe
love stays that heaven and hell are microcosms
within ourselves the afterlife is just a star \
in Orion’s belt in the vacuum of the universe
I believe in one breath
more
Adela Najarro
Adela Najarro is the author of three poetry collections: Split Geography, Twice Told Over and My Childrens, a chapbook with teaching resources where students explore creative writing, identity, and what it means to be Latinx in US society. She teaches creative writing, literature, and composition at Cabrillo College. More information about Adela can be found at her website: www.adelanajarro.com.