JOINED

BY R. MIRANDA

INTRODUCTION
As a prisoner who’s spent nearly four decades behind 30-feet walls, the idea of being connected is paramount to survival, even more so for my desire to thrive. The connections I’ve made are as varied and unique as our fingerprints. While some of these relationships have stood the test of time, and others became severe… they all have left their mark on my soul.

Being Native, I learned the importance of my connection to the elders and ancestors ~ to family. Growing up in an Anglicized America, I’ve learned that a connection to other cultures ~ to friends ~ is inevitable. There’s a popular adage that goes like this: “You can’t choose your family, but you can choose your friends.” Of course, this usually followed up with some sort of qualifier.

In this day and age, some may argue that friends are indeed family. Ergo you can choose your family. I tend to agree. In prison, sometimes all you have are the connections you’ve made along your journey. With this thought in mind, I offer the following poem. It is based on the predication the most valuable “connections” a prisoner must make are the connection to their “Inner Child” (self) and a connection to friends turned family.

JOINED
I sit daydreaming
Watching images flash one-by-one
Joined
Frame-by-frame

I hear the clicking sound
Of a long-forgotten nickelodeon machine
As it flickers together an ol’ picture show …
Memories turned movie

   Two children playing in a meadow
Laughing as the pick small, white daisies
            Stringing them stem-to-head
Joined
Forming chains that become necklaces
Draped upon one another’s shoulders
Connecting them to this forever moment …

            A circle ~ a ring
Formed of children holding hands
Singing and dancing to an ol’ familiar tune …
Ring around the rosy, pocket full of posy
As the scene fades another takes its place

            Two children, now grown, stand in a meadow
Roses about in a sea of small, white daisies
Children sing an ol’ familiar tune …
Here comes the bride all dressed in white
            The rings now gold are placed on one another’s finger
Joined
A family formed, framed, in this fading moment …
We are one. | RM

R. MIRANDA WAS BORN IN SAN JOSE, CALIFORNIA. HE IS NATIVE AMERICAN (MAYAN, APACHE, YAQUI) AND SPANISH/ROMANIAN. HIS WRITING IS A FORM OF POSITIVE FOCUS AND HEALING AND EXPRESSION.