Photo byJean Schugart-Schild
Can you change your world without the help of another?
Of course you can.
But it is a comfort to lean upon another, or watch them listen
To your words emotionally tumble before them like a stack
Of children's blocks, letters deeply carved in a wooden message.
To be free, sometimes we need to uncross our arms from our chest
And fold them around another, feel beyond our own ribs.
Suffering comes in line with all things we are and ever will be:
The physical ills and shocks, traumas that split our mind from others,
The carving of our private abyss that severs us as it fills with our fallen beliefs,
Intelligence becomes dark clouds, the prism-band that arcs over
Our essence has faded to gray fog that weighs down eyelids.
Can you hear a cry inside you? The cry to look outward once more.
Can you try one more time to accept that life is ever changing?
Of course you can.
Of course you can.
But it is a comfort to lean upon another, or watch them listen
To your words emotionally tumble before them like a stack
Of children's blocks, letters deeply carved in a wooden message.
To be free, sometimes we need to uncross our arms from our chest
And fold them around another, feel beyond our own ribs.
Suffering comes in line with all things we are and ever will be:
The physical ills and shocks, traumas that split our mind from others,
The carving of our private abyss that severs us as it fills with our fallen beliefs,
Intelligence becomes dark clouds, the prism-band that arcs over
Our essence has faded to gray fog that weighs down eyelids.
Can you hear a cry inside you? The cry to look outward once more.
Can you try one more time to accept that life is ever changing?
Of course you can.
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