For Grandpa

Few people know what it is to pull yourself up by the bootstraps without even having boots.

To love yourself love yourself in a world that never loved you.

Hair too kinky, skin too dark for people to accept.

   Yet, hands still clasped in holy matrimony knees glued to floor.

    Few know what it is to look at rain and see harvest.

    To look at field and see home.

    To serve a county that never served you.

    To be a rock when everyone else is sand.

    To make feasts out of scraps.

        Yet, you do it so, effortlessly.

         You weave sunshine out of sadness, make honey out of salt, turns tears into rainbows, forge prayers out of misery.

             My heart in human form.

             You built my foundation from prayer, sacrifice, and unconditional love.