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Honey on My Altar

My mother’s prayer room
haven of holy oil, candles,
a cross, her bible big
as the altar mat where
spirit comes to speak

She tarries through nights
praises God each morning
writes down blessings
before they manifest
to me, she is gifted

She gifted me the power
of prayer, gifted me this tongue
my gift of dreams has survived
generations, and now I’m
gifted with psalms

Oh spirit of my people
hear me cry my mother’s cry
see me dance my grandma’s dance
guide me towards the light
as I make space
to transgress and build again

My prayer room is a place
to reverence my ancestors
grounds me to this isla Borikén
between the sea I bathe in
bendiciones I believe in

Sweet like honey on my altar
who am I to deny this call
maybe these crossroads
of oraciones and offerings
salt and okra are seeds of salvation