Have you ever come to the end of the day,
and can run the clock back play by play,
and can add it up that supposedly
it was the day it was supposed to be,
but somehow it seems that no time has gone
like a broken record playing on and on,
and you think back through all the things you’ve done -
every day every deed bleeding into one,
and you can’t help but feel just a little fear
and hopelessness, cuz it isn’t clear
what it’s all about, why you rise each day,
fight the fights you fight, play the games you play,
do the things you do, “Just what the hell for”
for you’ve done it all a thousand times before,
and could keep on going til the bitter end,
and perhaps you will but what purpose then
does it serve, and so your left with not
but to sigh and deal with what you’ve got,
and just keep moving for you know what they say…
 
Tomorrow will be a bran new day.

If we could hazard a guess, tomorrow is the day everything changes. That's the famous phrase. Something about the way the pink roses on the counter stand so tall and proud. When I was young I envisioned I would be like them someday. Deep into my womanhood, tully aware of the force I have to push with to keep my shoulders up. But I would do it, that's what I believed. These days it's enough to hold the weight of breathing, and enough to move limb after limb. To keep up with the minutes and still meet them up ahead with a gracious smile. On repeat, morning sun to evening moon. Some days my limbs they move me, others I move with them too. That's how it goes. Sometimes the roses are drooping, sometimes they bloom instead. All the time they are alive and present, standing, even as they shed.

I often find this desire to rinse my lungs
under the tap and wash out all this debris
comes from that same feeling
of sitting on this carpet floor
and staring out into the open fields
thinking just how remarkably vast these voids are,
resembling the oceans
I would cross if it meant you would understand
how much I believe in everything you can do
against all the sand and dust
through these voids with cleared lungs
I'd come back with boats carrying
little ways to tell you about all the things
I believe you'll get through

Look back and see
just how remarkably vast
are these oceans you have crossed

if the lines of code
that capture all these thoughts  
somehow bubble up
in a distant pool
in a plasma of pixels
in a far off river of an era
and spill out into the world
let it be known
that i am doing my best
i am fighting the good fight
i am here on the right side
the lovers’ side
and let it be known
that i’ll do my part
to burn it all up
if i have to

Tucked under watch of a recent town,
Nourishing raindrops trickle down,
Steady on, a boy works the land,
For none here would eat, 'cept by his hand,
Through the night and on to the morn,
He works alone as a new day is born,
Digging, raking, and sowing,
Soon labor's fruits are growing,
Dread spring flood or autumn gale,
He tends the earth in heat or hail,
To find to reap, the sweetest feat,
To give others, his crop to eat.

While walking through a warm afternoon
that suddenly turned from bright to dim,
with blazing clouds that began to loom
and shadows grew deeper and light was thin:

My way ahead was unexpectedly barred
by an iron gate, its lock snapped shut.
It’s topped by spikes well made to ward
off hurdlers, sharpened, made to deeply cut.

Past the gatehouse, a tunnel, a fallen shelter
from the rapidly coming hard rainfall
that once was sung about by a jester
in time with a tambourine, as I recall.

It leads to a light that’s still ablaze
where sunbeams’ sheen still sparkles bright,
beckoning us all to pass this gate
that looks at first glance a menacing might.

To stay before this wrought iron fence,
its spikes tipped with red poison that drips
into the soil that’s in cracked distress?
I won’t just wait here in the dawning eclipse.

No lock is unpickable, no wall too high
for those with the will to reach new skies.

If misfortune haunts your steps.
Let the burning desire in your heart
light your way.
Should your fuel turn into ashes,
Split the atoms
set the world ablaze.
Rush toward victory,
for this is the path you've chosen.