I Could’ve Died in Haiti

I’d have met my ancestors at the bottom of the ocean

Maybe they would have held my hand as the pressure filled my lungs

Mistaking my silent screams with song, they would join in

and the waves would dance sending me into the depths of darkness

I’d start to see light where there was none 

and then Grandy’s voice would play like a music box

She’d spoil it for me like she always would and tell me it’s time

I’d go from fighting to floating to fading 

and the light would consume me

Except, my head came up from the water that day

I gasped for air and received it, the sun still willing to warm my skin

The Son still willing to love me from a distance