the clouds roll in
a few at a time
to a barrel jumping
and before you know it
the sky is bruised,
the waves have run out of room,
and they’re colliding on all sides
like a legion of cymatic vendettas,
or a black body radiation field
composed of infinitesimal ballerinas
and one-way mirrors.
It’s the same way
particles come into existence,
always in pairs,
up and down,
here and there,
whirling, concocted, linked-together, just-in-time–
the connections obvious
because the void is so full of this every-which-ways looking.
But it’s uncomfortable to breath
right at the moving boundary
between life and nothing whatsoever.
You can drown on a teaspoon of water.
So, we’re trained to resist.
We’ve been bred for thousands of years
to take just this very circumstance,
and grab it by the neck.
But oh boy… they love it when you resist!
The waves I mean.
Try and grab a wave by the neck.
Resisting is like
putting your odds on the idea
that you can think faster than God.
When that thought
builds to a crescendo,
Murphy’s Law goes all hyperbolic fractal
and time inside the inferno starts whipping by
like a stiff breeze off the Cape of Good Hope.
Long story short,
one way or another, the waves slosh
over the sides of your life.
You start to sink.
You may start to panic.
But what this poem is really about,
is that you can breath underwater.
See, that changes everything.
If you’ll let it, obviously.
Where we get off track
is this thought we get sometimes–
from being bred for thousands of years
to grab this situation by the neck–
that if you hold your nose
and close your eyes
and sink into the water
and Hafiz slaps your hand out of the way
and secures a fitted mask to your grille
that’s equipped with a patent pending
underwater breathing apparatus…
you say no–!
It doesn’t count!
It only counts if I do it naturally…
lowers a bucket from the sky,
but the decision is made
to hold out
until wings are sprouted.
Like we have that kind of time.
All I’m saying,
is that if peace holds out its hand,
crawl onto it.
Let is close around you,
and carry you safely
through strange places
that sound like they’re subway stops
full of totally insane negotiators
that have been bred
for thousands of years
to speak in tongues
and jockey for position.
Let peace carry you through.
Let Love teach you the structure of silence.
Let Hafiz put a mask on your face.
Stop insisting you know
how this works.