if I had another poem in me it would curl me up and wash me away
.
some small part of me from long ago is looking into the cage looking at life and light and shivering at the thought terrified at the possibility the tyranny of having to constantly breath consistently pulse and beat pulse and beat just to stay locked up on the other side
unaware that until the end until we become aware it is as easy as not sucking in and out not pumping through and through not toiling not trudging up and down
as easy as flying with no wings
there is no effort like a river in a never ending stream rolling roiling down to the sea taken up and rained down rolling and falling over and over we breathe our breaths and beat our hearts ceaselessly without thought unaware of the joy the simplicity the gift of our condition
and the hard part is feeling all we feel learning all we learn wanting all we want knowing all we know
until we can’t
.
if I had more words in me they would curl me up wash me away and bring me right here
back to you