To take a break,
to mix things up
when at one spate,
of no matter what it is,
it’s come to where
you’ve had enough,
means
take a breath
and close your eyes,
allow the feeling of your weight
to sink,
feel the place of skin on seat,
of feet on socks and shoes and ground,
the rest on clothes and hair and air
your body all its ways around,
in circle arc,
inside, outside–
everywhere!
Feel in your mind,
the nooks and crannies
where rivulets
are carved in paths
in which you’re used to think,
these lines
your naked eyes
would never find,
conniving mischief
you’re most apt to miss,
especially
if you should blink!
Feel the feelings
and the thoughts
that much destruction
of yourself
and maybe others, too,
have wrought,
all those sundry sentiment
way down inside,
which,
even on the very best of days,
can rear its head
and feel unkind. . .
Cry now, God knows,
without the torrent
flow of tears
the pile stagnates, putrefies
and grows,
no matter that, before
they’ve so
and so
and so much cried,
so much so that you,
in honesty,
might well have died.
But step ahead,
despite that fear
you have inside. . .
And feel them now.
It is a risk,
but if
you let them be
and let them do
and let them go,
they’re not so apt
to take you on
so much more
of same old ride. . .
And when
comes cool
and crickets’ song
with eventide,
you’ll know
new peace,
a quiet night,
and deeper sleep,
and rested well,
again you’ll rise,
so pleased to face
a brand-new morn,
and drink
the sunshine
open-eyed.
The Danforth Anchor 