Denise Ervin
Rebirth
In high school, my friends and I
were obsessed with the meaning
of our names.
My oldest friends are:
“Crown,”
“Strong,”
“Gift,”
“Advisor,”
and
“Divinely gracious.”
I remember I couldn’t wait
to add my moniker to that amazing list,
only to find that source after source
defined my name as only:
“the feminine form of Dennis.”
If I dig deep,
I can unearth some mythology
about being a follower of a Greek god,
but my mama nor my daddy
ain’t know a thing about that
when they picked this.
I’m sure they never knew
I’d have to endure a lifetime of jokes
about “DeNephew” either,
but I digress
It would seem the proverbial basket
where they stored all of their eggs
was in my middle name: “Renee”.
By all accounts, it means “born again.”
My birth being a rebirth
for the “shining light” who was born not breathing
and named after a former first lady,
and the “holder of the heel”
charged with the mantle of patriarch
for our little clan.
My beginning was the ending of a quest
and answer to the query
“What the end gon’ be?”
If my bloodline ends with me
if Godmommy is the closest I come
to rearing a child
if the fibroids that run in my family
finally catch up to me
then these poems gon’ be my legacy,
gon’ be my inheritance and my birthright,
gon’ be all I got to leave behind.
So I’m gon’ bury ‘em,
entrench each syllable
in the fabric of the universe
so they will sprout anew each spring.
And every time these words surface,
when they come to light...
when they become the light...
we will all be born again.
were obsessed with the meaning
of our names.
My oldest friends are:
“Crown,”
“Strong,”
“Gift,”
“Advisor,”
and
“Divinely gracious.”
I remember I couldn’t wait
to add my moniker to that amazing list,
only to find that source after source
defined my name as only:
“the feminine form of Dennis.”
If I dig deep,
I can unearth some mythology
about being a follower of a Greek god,
but my mama nor my daddy
ain’t know a thing about that
when they picked this.
I’m sure they never knew
I’d have to endure a lifetime of jokes
about “DeNephew” either,
but I digress
It would seem the proverbial basket
where they stored all of their eggs
was in my middle name: “Renee”.
By all accounts, it means “born again.”
My birth being a rebirth
for the “shining light” who was born not breathing
and named after a former first lady,
and the “holder of the heel”
charged with the mantle of patriarch
for our little clan.
My beginning was the ending of a quest
and answer to the query
“What the end gon’ be?”
If my bloodline ends with me
if Godmommy is the closest I come
to rearing a child
if the fibroids that run in my family
finally catch up to me
then these poems gon’ be my legacy,
gon’ be my inheritance and my birthright,
gon’ be all I got to leave behind.
So I’m gon’ bury ‘em,
entrench each syllable
in the fabric of the universe
so they will sprout anew each spring.
And every time these words surface,
when they come to light...
when they become the light...
we will all be born again.
Denise R. Ervin (she/her) is a creative writer hewn from the streets, classrooms, and boardrooms of the city of Detroit. Formally educated in both literature and business, she has served in corporate America by day and as an adjunct college professor by night. As a teaching artist, she has spent more than two decades performing poetry around the country and leading workshops for the likes of Literary Cleveland and the University of Michigan. Former Literary Arts Director for Sundress Academy for the Arts (SAFTA), Denise currently serves as Program Manager for a youth writing organization. Her work has been published or is forthcoming in AADUNA, Third Wednesday Magazine, Vagabond City Lit, and others. Most recently, Denise was selected as a Graduate Fellow by The Watering Hole, an Obsidian Foundation Retreat Fellow, and a semifinalist for America's Next Great Author.
Writing My Way Thru the World Official: Instagram, Facebook | Linktree
Writing My Way Thru the World Official: Instagram, Facebook | Linktree
