This Being Transgender
\nBy
\nJennifer Angelina Petro<\/p>\n
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Dear Autumn,
\nThis being transgender reminds me of what you must face;
\nPeople who haven\u2019t thought of you for ages
\nSuddenly find themselves thinking of you and lamenting your arrival,
\nOthers find you a fascinating anomaly in an otherwise endless summer
\nOf sameness and dreamy afternoons;
\nOthers force themselves to stop thinking of you
\nWith hopes of postponing an imaginary, apocalyptic winter,
\nStill others think about you so much they stop talking to you
\nAnd pretend you no longer exist, they fear
\nYour blazing changes will rub off on them,
\nThey think your very appearance signals a heresy
\nThat will send summer reeling\u2014
\nWhich it does–but not in distress does summer
\nGo tumbling through the leaves and out of town, it rolls on
\nJoyous of your presence and relieved
\nTo finally be able to breathe fully and see spring\u2019s children
\nFor who they really are. And the heresy? It is there–
\nIt signals the living fully what love stands for–
\nAnd that means comfort zones expanded,
\nWalls removed, and doors opened into the reality
\nOf the here and now, 2015.<\/p>\n
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Dear Autumn,
\nI see your graceful letting go,
\nI see you casting gold with trembling fingers,
\nI see your swaying vulnerability against a stark blue sky,
\nAnd I know I let go far less gracefully,
\nI cling to what must be tossed away,
\nI flail about believing
\nThere is nothing gold about me
\nTo even bother sharing;
\nI begin believing those who can longer look at me
\nOr who dread how I will influence their children\u2014
\nI know better though, I know they only fear
\nHow I will influence them\u2014how I will magically
\nNudge them away from the summer
\nOf their inner, thinly-hidden discontent
\nAnd out into the blazing colors of enlightenment,
\nI know better, but I cling to brittle branches
\nOf self-loathing.<\/p>\n
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Dear Autumn,
\nSo many people tell me they need time to be able to just see me,
\nSome still believe a death has occurred, and yet, here I stand in my autumnal truth.
\nYou and I both know nothing dies when you arrive;
\nSummer cartwheels over the hills and warms
\nAnother place happy to be free to think new thoughts,
\nThe leaves you share feed the soil and fertilize the seeds of spring,
\nThe harvest of apples feeds many with mulled sweetness,
\nAnd if they could only see you in my soul
\nAnd be awed at the revelation of color and the arrival
\nOf gold and my ability to finally stand in the fifth direction
\nOf my journey, with all of the certainty of wonder and hope
\nOf voyaging further into the sky, the streams, the purple mountains,
\nThe heart of love, and the ground of being;
\nIf they would only look in the mirror of their deepest fears\u2014
\nAnd see love looking back at them,
\nAnd how the faces of spring infants and angels of flamenco
\nGather around the edges of their vision, then maybe they would get it\u2014
\nTheir reflection looks like us and them\u2014it looks like every single tree
\nTo ever wave in the wind and sleep bathed in moonlight,
\nAnd just rest easy knowing we are not signaling the end
\nOf all that is warm and held sacred,
\nWe are heralding the beginning of freedom,
\nWe are taking the leaves of sacredness
\nAnd casting them where they truly belong–
\nInto an infinite sky of infinite variety.<\/p>\n
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