that I am confident and fragile and whole.
that I am infinite and gentle, filled with sadness that knows itself
only as hope.
that I am born from the ground up and than I am not to be afraid of laying down my
leaves and weathering my way
that your life is no less real or vivid.
that the colors that paint your sky are born from the same palate as mine even if the
have different whorls.
that we are better together.
that the impossible is possible and that the ground can rip up from our feet at any moment
and swallow us
Show me this
even if you are no longer standing,
even if you are on your knees,
because I know that gravity is a great and unhurried force,
and that the oppression of silence is
Throw off those cloaks, throw off those shackles
so that you can hold them up to my face,
so that you can place them in my hands, and I can feel the weight of a
that which cannot be seen.
the tired bones that rest inside you.
that flightless heart of yours, the wingless bird that cries out
from your ribcage,
desperate to be heard.
that these bodies are not trenches and that love is not war.
and show me
the ones you’ve painted on yourself.
Show me every ache and every laugh,
every maybe and every perhaps.
Show me your dreams so that I can show you mine,
all of them,
even the nightmares.
that we are everything
that the beginning is not
the end, that there was never a true beginning, only
a continuance of sound.
that this land is changing, growing, fading, dying, surviving,
changing again unto itself,
nothing more that clay,
nothing less than art.
the catastrophes of eruption and the brilliance of destitution
as these words escape from me
of their own accord.
the glitter of tomorrow come today and the glint
of the yesterdays
that should have been long gone by now.
that you are not out to get me,
And show me
that I am not out to get you.
that hands are capable of everything,
most of all compassion.
how not to let my living destroy others.
what wisdom looks like in blue eyes, miniature oceans; let me know
with some subtle looks and
teethy smiles -- destiny has a crooked, mountainous grin.
how not to kill you.
that I am nothing and that
I am everything.
that I am the words I speak,
and the words I write,
and all the huge strange thoughts that patter around my head like rain,
keeping their own secrets.
even if it is nothing more than words.
And let the world
see me as I am.
Words and all.