2010–2023 Writings
by Michelle Margaret Fajkus

The Sun Will Come Out

Written in


I am not black.
I am not white.
I am not Hispanic.
I am not Chicana.
I am not Catholic.
I am not Christian.
I am not Buddhist.
I am not Muslim.
I am not Jewish.
I am not American.
I am not a yogi.
I am not a writer.
I am not 40.
I am not Asian.
I am not Indigenous.
Except aren’t we all, ultimately? Indigenous?
Except aren’t we all human beings?


“Try to be a rainbow in someone else’s cloud.” – Maya Angelou


Read the voices of black folk. Langston Hughes WEB Dubois Malcolm X James Baldwin Martin Luther King Jr Colin Powell Barack Obama Maya Angelou Toni Morrison Zadie Smith Angela Davis Audre Lord Alice Walker bell hooks so many more old and new


The sun came out today after over a week of near constant drizzle and rain, many days of gray sky and no blue. And the continuing lockdown and the first actual case of coronavirus in the pueblo. And the backdrop of protest, peace met with violence, openness met with oppression, in the country of my birth and elsewhere round the world. With this plus nonstop chill and wet depression gradually sunk in; a desire to stay in bed and read, a lack of desire to do much else. But now the sun is out. The storm has passed. Another one will come, and I will do my best to accept it when it does, as well as each moment between now and then, of sunlight and of afternoon cloudbursts. There is no fighting nature.

Photo by Alex on Pexels.com

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