Your Name Is Not To Blame

I never liked my name

(For that, my parents are to blame)

But something new it became

When the Hispanics heard it

And took it kindly off my lips

Plucked like a drowning sailor from a sinking ship

And they put it under the microscope of their minds

To observe its parts

Without dissecting it

Just looking and learning and savoring it

Almost fondly

Like a student of botany

With a precious bloom in her hand

Each petal a wonder

Admired without being torn asunder

Unlearning hatred is tough

But my name, a diamond in the rough

Once coarse as sand

Is now something grand

Or something lovely and small

But worth more than all

The little strokes that comprise

Its letters and it is such a surprise

To me that those syllables three

Once too plain and ugly

Could be deemed pretty

And pronounced with purity

And spoken with clarity

My name is a rarity

Not common, nor tired

But a breath inspired

The twinkle in their eyes

Is certain demise

For the cantankerous lies

I told myself that my moniker

Was in need of a tonic or

A legal change to something more strange

Something unique, but still within range

Of reality, something everyone could see

Was fitting for me and a thing of beauty

But their measured pace

In practicing my name

Gave me unblinded eyes to see through a new lens

The shining light of how kindness mends

And I’m changed inside, suddenly Emily

My once hated name has become almost Heavenly.