Thank you, Philadelphia.

Big transitions & good news.

From my visual poetry series, "My Heart & My Work / My Work & My Heart"

I am looking out the window of a motel in Albuquerque, New Mexico, the clouds distant and low to the horizon, pillowing the cool yellow, orange, and pink heat of the sunset. Today is the fourth day of my cross-country drive to the San Francisco Bay Area. My car is crammed with my now-only belongings. I am swimming downstream into the region of my upbringing, a new full-time job and full-time home secured and waiting for me. The uncertainties and the questions finally opening a path forward, the urgency of searching settled for a time. I look out the window again and think the sun is moving faster than it usually does, lowering itself eagerly, mimicking my long solitary hours of driving Westward.

When I moved to Philadelphia in April of 2017, I had little more than $100, a backpack, and a friend’s couch to sleep on. I needed a far-away place to land, and as one thing lead to another, Philadelphia became home for the next 6 years. The love I have for every friendship, every home, every walk, every study group, every demonstration, every conversation, every poetry reading, every meal shared in Philadelphia will always be beaming from me. I am so thankful for all I was able to give to the city, and all the city gave to me. I welcome this exciting new beginning, full of hope and possibility, and I welcome the grief of leaving a place / and many people so cherished and special to me, who I can call on and return to again and again. I pray for ease in this transition, and acceptance of all the feelings and fears that come along with it.

Thank you so much, Philadelphia, for the life-long love. I will see you again and soon, God-willing. I am truly indebted—politically, spiritually, and emotionally. So much has ripened and fallen away. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

• “Gratitude” by Sally Bliumis-Dunn (Rattle).

• Marie Howe’s “Annunciation” in the On Being podcast.

• A whole lot of quiet on a no-music / no-podcast drive, long phone calls with loved ones, the big / wild sky.