i’m imagining it again tonight

the mosaic tiles
in strawberry fields
in my ether
in the intersection
of idealist moonbeams
and #BlackLivesMatter marchers
swirling under the Manhatten hum [or is it a pulse?]
feeling the tranquility of the mosaic
despite being just steps from the Dakota.

i didn’t know then
but they wrote strawberry fields
in the weeks leading up to my birth.

even though it isn’t all about Me
it’s about relationships
in orphanages in England
among people around the Imagine
among the million marchers for…
what they imagine they want in our world.

i couldn’t see strawberry fields from the top top
of the Empire State Building that night
but i could feel it there
and i saw those buildings in midtown
with those glowstickandneonblurring parties
on the roofs
when i wondered whether the humpulse of the city
didn’t even intersect
with what we all
want need yearn fumble
to imagine.

when i count the lives that matter
the people who need to breathe
the kids in hoodies
and the kettling, suffocating police state
tightening around us,
i need to count
each and all of you
who are also trying to imagine
where
tomorrow
will
land.

i want to build the cairn, the Inukshuk
on top of the Imagine mosaic
to be the fluid testament
to/for/with all those who drift on by
or stop in remembrance.

but you need to meet me there first.