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