A Free Verse Poem
It may be true that we’re hurtling toward some inglorious end,
wearing the armor of weighty grievances
while floodwaters break around our knees. It may be true
that the size of our debt determines our fate:
Either be a fool, or learn to suffer fools
Yet, you slow down long enough to remind me
of the overwhelming magical accident
of existence, to lead me down a path
to a clearing, as if to say:
Let me show you what it’s all worth
Because, damn if I don’t feel a quickening now —
swirling waves & colors and a swelling
of love for the whole messy mess of it.
One small holy space is the holy center
of the whole world, the universe, the birthplace
of all existence:
Of course it makes me shudder & cry
Full-bodied tears of wonder, an unearthing
of joy & agony and remembrance
of the interchangeability of emotion.
Gratitude isn’t enough
for the utter plum-stupid luck of it,
for this unearned opportunity:
The foolish delight of living in a body
Insecurities & indecencies, mistakes & sins
too numerous to recall, against my nature and
my heart — which I realize, finally, is beating still
thanks to your reminder:
I am worthy of this offering
Your hands hold me as the earth does, lightly —
like a swan with a broken wing, gently —
until I surrender to what I’ve known all along:
Brokenness is a gift
and I’m shattered to pieces.
