more like mirrors

you just want it to go away,

like the song from your childhood...

come again another day.

but the rain rarely listens to your song

and neither does grief.

the important stuff knows when it's needed--

whether you like it, or not.

the clouds know when it's time to unleash,

your body knows when a monsoon's in order,

the earth knows when it can't withhold the crack.

we are not ones to fight nature,

to think we know what's best and when.

we are more like ants

than we've yet to embrace,

dancing perfect synchronicity without

as much as a word,

being stepped on without

as much as a chance

to escape.

ants being ants being ants.

we are more like freedom.

you just want it to go away,

the idea of war or domination

or greed or separation.

a translucent desperation

staring you in the face.

name the pain, the pang it leaves.

the important stuff knows when it's needed--

we can become more like mirrors than

organized shelves.

we can become more like ants

meandering our mazes,
making new ones,
holding three times our weight,

singing in silence,

letting loss be loss be loss.

the important stuff knows when it's needed--

like it, or not.