With the stern eyes,
Behind which you try to hide that fat little Sterno-can heart.
I see you.
Your incendiary gelatinous mess of yes-ness glows right through you,
Throbbing in fabulous thoracic iambic pentameter.
It’s simply resistance that precipitates your inner turbulence.
Attachment is a tense drag.
Loosen your grip on what is and
Let in the limitless quantum eternal existence.
Let the expired empire tumble.
Let the empty obsolete edifice crumble.
Let the façade fall, it’s all coming down anyway.
Let the hater-zombies hate, they’re in a hell of their own creation.
Let the pain come when it does.
And when the primal yell wells up inside you, let loose.
Crack your sternum wishbone-open,
Set that hungry soul of yours free.
This earthling thing?
It’s just the dance we’re currently dancing.
But even when we can accept that intellectually,
It’s the owning-it-in-our-wishbone-souls part
That gets us all edgy.
We came to move forward through the wind as it whistles past us.
We came to eat chocolate.
We came to feel the sandpaper tongues of kittens on our wrists.
We came to kiss.
We came to listen to Otis Redding.
We came to recognize.
We came for the forgetting and the remembering and the forgetting.
We came for the first and the last slice of pi.
We came to party.
This universe yearns to rebirth itself eternally:
The tree drops its pomegranate and it slams to the earth,
Bursts: holy abundance of seed.
Each seed, brimming with tree.
Each tree, teeming with pomegranate.
Each pomegranate, rampant potential,
Each limitless possibility,
Life: spiraling milky way in all its infinite wisdom,
Vibrating and radiant and reliable in its sunrises,
Knowledge free-falling in wondrous glory thunderbolts,
Spilling with the fulfilling of destiny like rain,
And round we go again.
Sterno Can Heart Photo by Jon MacCulloch