You will get there
When I think to the surface of me:
the edges of my early mornings,
the fullness of and fighting for family,
the ground I find in the generosity of friendships,
the pulse that peers out of
petunia petals and purple sky,
vibrant and vivid,
everything is fine.
But it’s everything that’s off focus
and beyond the reach of us that
causes chaos into confusion and
chasms of doubt and
return to regret and
whispers of Well, you messed that up,
right before
your screen-strained eyes
shut to sleep.
It’s what shelves sell,
self-help and skinny,
career and courses
to correct all calluses,
because we’re supposed to believe
that we’re in control and
what’s the matter,
how have you not made yourself
matter?
But, freeze.
Screen shatter.
Sun spill across 8 p.m. summer sky,
bleed over the borders of buildings,
saturate, shake.
Sense the senselessness of sunset.
As sure as you got here,
you will get there.
Wherever that is.
You will.
We will.
As awesome as the arrangement
of the earth assigns itself
to what we find indescribable
and wondrous,
so you yourself are and will be
assigned.