“There is but one thing of real value—to cultivate truth
and justice, and to live without anger in the midst of lying
and unjust men.”—Marcus Aurelius
I find you, as I walk on the beach,
in a simple, eloquent grain of sand.
You are not like blood, red and heavy,
sticky, smelling of rust and iron.
You are more ethereal, misty,
living in the breast of fog.
Although you lack visible mass,
you are heavier than governments,
not bound by parameters, a phantom
that comes when I summon it.
You do not fade like an old dress,
but endure for eternity.
At times your brightness enters my pupils
beyond the veils, so close I can almost
touch you, and when you swell and expand
into an immense glow, I shiver.
Too often you are braided into untruths.
It is then, that I emerge like a woman on fire
to defend you against those who dwell
in the halls of deceit and guile.
Finally, when the streets are empty, devoid
of a thousand voices, squawking and hissing
in chaos, I turn as quiet as a grain of sand
and hope that you do not abandon us.
This poem first appeared in California Quarterly, Spring 2024, Volume 50, No. 1.
—
Rosemary Ybarra-Garcia is the author of four books of poetry, most recently Poems From My Painted Porch: Living in Accordance With Nature. Her poetry has been featured in Lighthouse Point: An Anthology of Santa Cruz Writers, New to North America: Writing by Immigrants, Their Children and Grandchildren, California Quarterly, Poetry Quarterly, Calyx, and River Poets Journal. An educator and a life-long poet, she holds graduate degrees in education, English, and Creative Writing from U.C.Davis and San Francisco State University. Prior to her retirement, Rosemary was employed by the California Community Colleges and U. C. Davis, where she held positions of lecturer, instructor, dean, and vice president. She dedicated her career to helping students achieve their educational goals and thus improve their lives.
