That guy

He’s one of those people that interrupts at the perfect time. Every time. Like tonight. I was about to get ready for this annual New Year’s fondue party my parents host. Every year. That’s what annual means. Like tonight. He’s got this really strange ability to say the right words, with precise diction and limited syllables. And he makes me think. Often more than I want to. Not normally because he wants to. But somehow always on purpose. Not necessarily his purpose. Or my purpose. But on purpose. He points out those things that creep in the corners. He makes them real. He reminds me what’s worth seeing as real. That it isn’t all. That the important things are. And those ones lurk the most. He’s got faith. Shaky. But the shakes help it grow. It’s roots have been built up. With all his shaking they have to be. And the tree above. It’s more beautiful than most. Unconventional. Skinny. Clear. Beautiful. It interrupts skylines and obstruct the sunset view. But it constantly reminds that being grounded like a shadow is the way we were meant to move. 

Poets

Mother bird

Do you hear me,

Faint, delicate, warmth-giving Mother Bird?

Do not grow weary

Spread your wings and invite them in

To the shelter of your feathers

These tools to fly by and cover

To dip

To saturate

In the ink-blood of the churning puddles you stumble on in life

Those wings to lift them safety and pull them to your side

With a gentle violence more difficult to understand than peace

Because that’s what you deliver always.

Mother Bird

Do you understand me,

Beautiful, dancing, breath-giving Mother Bird?

Do not grow complacent

From limb to limb jump higher than you want

To the spaces no one

Will inhabit without your light

Paint into masterpieces your heart

With your heat

With your words

Move your feet to the sounds

It doesn’t matter which ones, for we all hear enough

Without care but with great deliberation move always.

Mother Bird

Great story teller, healer, tribe-keeper

Do not grow faint.

With your head high, but low enough to always see

How close you truly are to the ground,

Proclaim your existence

With the song from your beak and

The flowing ink from your wing

Proclaim your existence

No matter how much the frozen tundra of winter groans

Or the scorching heat of summer land moans

Dwell in the air

Watch the cycles of life repeat and soar over

Circling with your grace

Knowing the ice only aches as it expands and

The growing pains of the field are written as a symphony for you.

Oasis

You’re wrong.

It’s okay

I promise

The inverse of right is positive

For thinking and

Growing the helpful inch by inch

You don’t know.

That isn’t a problem

I swear

This uncertainty doesn’t mean

You won’t find peace

Somewhere at the end when you lay

This sprint is wearing you out

Find the needed oasis

Of the corner Walgreens in the

Middle of this midnight monsoon

Stop running the block

Searching from stop light

To stop light and

Let those cramping legs and

That fast beating heart

Breathe.

Waste

Your mind might be spinning and

Your voice trembling

Your heart may be racing and

Your left foot aching

But love,
Let me share this one simple fact:

You are not crazier today than you were yesterday.

That same mind will keep turning

It’s wheels pushing and pulling

That voice ringing loud above

It’s vibrato eloquent and present

That heart pounding pounding pounding

It’s blood filling you and everyone you meet

That foot pulsing with feeling to remind you

It’s there to keep you from getting too comfortable

Too many words repeating themselves

Always to say the same thing

You are as messy as the rest

As cracked as the first

And as confused as I am.

And let it be known that your craziness will be constant

Until you become complacent

And I would probably stop talking to you if that happened.

You’re too interesting and

Wonderful for your soul to rest.

Higher(than you)

Suspension.
In limbo.
Puppet on a string.
Attached in the air.
Movement with restricted Freedom.