HISTORY
10.7.19
this morning the green fists of ferns were getting ready
to break my heart
their green holding
all that dampness and recklessness
gladly, brightly – beauty the brave, the exemplary
unlike this heart of mine
cowardly loving this world
do you cherish your humble and silky life?
i alone in this room hurry, half-dressed and barefoot, into the garden,
softly exclaiming of my dearness
to be wild and perfect for a moment
before wilt
the choice of unfurl has never been mine to make
there is nothing Godlike about me
nothing creation
nothing discernment for who lives and who dies
with a universe growing in my belly
nothing matters like it did anymore
on that day, everything changed.