June Will Be Okay

Deciding this morning whether
To be afraid for our weather

For this Earth
For its Underlings

I noticed triumph
Its and Theirs

I saw green, cold tears
Gladness!

There was little left to do
Open wide the window

Cry out
Three cheers for a cold victory!

Under The Tree

I wish your teacher
Hadn’t taught you hardball
Or you’d have played a bit softer with me

And had I needed
Not to wipe the sweat from your brow
You’d be sleeping, I’d be living a life

Flee now, rejection!
Else I wish forever more
On this Earth, in my dreams, and in heav’n

He Said To Me

I need to move

from Earth

I need to make space

as if I were a creator

or creative, of some sort

I need to mark

from Intention

I need to mean something

as if they’d someday speak

Or marvel, of the firmament

Love Dust

With what gloves do you handle
Your mother
The one who wonders at you
What pieces of your heart do you hold
For her alone
Will you rise to all she knows you are
And meet her at her pace
Catch her if you can!

With what boots do your walk upon
Your mother
The one who provides for you
What segment of your sinew do you share
For her creatures
Will you champion her air and terroir
And give your dying breath
Back from whence you came!

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Steady Go

We’re supposed to be calm through all this
Act unaffected
Not try to reverse-spin the Earth on its axis
In an attempt to double-see the bizarre we saw
To test it against the age-old version of gravity
And ask the person standing next to us
Did we see what we just saw?
Memorialize. What. We. Just. Saw.
For posterity
Meanwhile, let the shadows call us crazy
Don’t ask them about truth

Move

What is the loveliest thing
I Am that

Who is the most humble One
I Am He

Where does the Earth need the Sky
I Am there 

The way we must live to fight well
I Am how

The reason that they will hear hope
I Am why

The now to remember your strength
I Am when

School

I think The Earth is moving

It’s not where I Left It

When in my Second-Story, Circus-Red-And-White-Striped childhood bedroom

I Knew never 

Would wrongs be deemed Right
Should the voiceless be Silenced
Could I stay and just play School

Did you don Your cape then too

A Poem Found Me

 What?

I wait motionless in silence, hearing nothing but the brush of my hair against the pillow fabric and the casual whirr of traffic beyond the window glass.

I expect the Earth to shake.

Or that waters will well up.

Shall fire sweep in with the wind?

Even still, I prize the void.

(Art credit: “Sacred Rectangle” rock formation; Tiger R., age 7)