Poem: January 7, 2020

Easy to Forget

I want you to love this work
despite all that refuses to recommend it.

I want you to see past the rows,
the cinder block and snotty noses,
the stacks and stacks of boxes to be checked.

I want you to refuse to see any tool,
any map, any protocol or strategy,
as a solution to your complex problem.

There is no solution. There is no problem.

I want you to spend these precious days
in the company of young souls,
in the presence of hope, unscrewing
the caps of jars full of wonder,
rediscovering surprise and wide-open eyes.

I want you to kneel before the mysteries
of blank pages and the open doors
that form the beginnings of all these lives,

and I want you to cry joyous tears,
surrounded as you are by the carbonated
alchemy of mind work, the magic of synapse,
the ancient artifacts and lore and mystic dance.

I want you to adore your holy rites,
your proximity to the pulsing human core.