EVEN BAD POETRY IS A GOOD THING

To Build a Home

Let go.

Let the freedom and the fire of
every heaving chest
shining brow
tired arm
squinted eye
heavy heart held for you
remember itself and bring meaning to your movements.

This old live oak has conspired for an eternity
and exhausted generations so that you might live,
pushed its roots so far that no-one can
remember what is up or down or sideways
or if we, the tips of its branches,
the reason for every inch of faded wood before us,
are hanging or rising on the boughs of the only moment meant for us.

Let go and close your eyes
and feel the flicker or every fleeting life
extinguished still alight in you.
Feel the whisper of a hundred thousand loves and losses,
of an untapped fourth dimension of dreams
breathing, being, building in your DNA
and let go.

Live today
feel today
love today
and touch the untouchable
"us" that made you.

"Us,"
"We,"
of you,
of you,
for you.

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