What it is that derives from us
Remains small
Stashed in dusty corners that are cluttered
with history and unread poems
We call on something within ourselves
To weave the entropy into a fabric
that we can wear throughout our existence,
colored it would be, but neutral in what it would evoke,
keeping us warm when the vicious winds
of love and hate rage through our village.
And yet…. allowing the coolness of joy to permeate into our souls
when such is laid before us.
Tender we are in these moments
Less than something
The sum of which is incongruent to truth
And our beauty
On that last page where we traded away our child heart
For the recognition of being something
We never wanted to be
Why did we ever cut our hair
The dirt at the bottom of our feet
Were prayers of acknowledgment
Grateful for how the gods assembled us
Tender and beautiful we are
The stars cross the sky to get a glimpse
Of this creation of duality
Flesh and soul
The spirit sings while the corporeal begs for its fodder
We are juxtaposed against harsh sky
Lifetimes ago we came to understand
The gods must remain indifferent to their creation
For the two must become one
They say the sun has a drumbeat in her heart
This is how the two learn to dance
Shedding the skins assigned to us
We are tender children here
This rational disordering
Pulls from the hollow
And makes love to these words
As we sacrifice ourselves
On alters hewn from
The roots and branches of our dreams
And yet the ashes are rejected by both the heavens and the hells
Could we not sip from this life ….the ambrosia
Equally ours as theirs
Did you know that a billion trillion stars love you
We are a precious gift that they gave themselves
For it is the soul, the soul, the soul…..oh precious soul