The getting in the way is part of the way.
Already I can feel my fingers resisting saying:
“Don’t say the awfulness. Don’t tell them you
Feel lost in the lives of everyone else
You take care of, and it’s your own fault anyway because
You’ve read The Four Agreements and you
Know better” and I can hear it all coming out
Of the tip end of my fingers as I pound out
Across the keyboard and I let it all
Rush out, the anger, the frustration, the
Litany of complaint until
The tap
Slows down, yet
The fingers they are not
Slower. No not at all. They are still
Running. They are actually done with their
Hearty warm up and, if I let myself think about it
For half a second, it’s the realization that
The litany of complaint is like cutting off the
Pineapple’s skin, pricking my finger on its spines and
Piling it up for the rotting compost, a walk without shoes
On bare cold cement, and the brushing of brown dust
From the board to make way for
Juice to rush out and a
Radiant center that is
Hidden and not lost
Just waiting.
—
This poem is dedicated to Kelly, a poet and photographer you can find on twitter @mrsmediocrity. She probably doesn’t know how much her simple wonderfulness inspires me.
Today’s Prompt: “What made your soul feel most nourished this year?”
Thanks to Kylie Bellard for the prompt today.
This post is part of December’s reverb13. Click the button to read more.
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