Poetry
Cynthia Sharp

Photo Credit: Nikolai Vassiliev

The Summer We Never Had

In the summer we never had
there is time
for endless evenings
of coffee and poetry
conversation
amid the spark of fireflies
in the city heat

as voices from late night
gatherings on porches
drift in open windows
I no longer pretend
you are in my room
just to study

we are no longer pending
on outside approval
only the potential
we elevate
each other to

in the summer we never had
I don’t have to be
anything more than I am
and it doesn’t matter
that my hair finds its way
into dreadlocks

there is red wine and lovemaking
daisies that last the night
my single bed is luxurious enough
and I never have to get over you

I taste forever
how it would have been
and never let you go

Inviting Jesus to Tea

When Jesus enters the circle
dress casual and warm
allow spaces
for his wisdom
don’t be embarrassed
when he appears
at the ceremony
keep on praying
all my relations
invite him to dance
He is a relation

When he stays for tea
wear mauve
use the best china
keep on praying
Aboriginal and
do rub his feet
He’s probably tired
of what’s been done
in his name

“Inviting Jesus to Tea” was inspired on Vancouver Island in the spring of ’97. We were called upon in a Medicine Circle to invite all our relations, when the spirit of my maternal grandmother brought Jesus with her into the Aboriginal healing ceremony, compelling me to be in unison all the parts of who I am.

Cynthia Sharp is currently at work on a trilogy of fantasy novels in between poems lamenting her lost twenties. She studied creative writing at York University in Toronto, where she wishes she had spent more summers.