We have to learn how to live in this

How to reckon with the heaviness

How to learn to breathe underwater

on the wet lung days

How to sit with unease

and rest there

We have to water our own plants and walk the dog around the block

No one is going to do this for us

I am slowly learning that forgiveness and apathy are very different creatures

and to allow them in the same room provides no movement

I am remembering

that still waters are not clean to drink from

and neither is a still life

Learning many things that I’m told I have known before

How many lives and how may re-births?

“Let’s unpack that” , he says

But I remember that I have always pulled at clothing slowly from an open suitcase, long after arrival

No person can provide the push for another

I sit outside and and meditate upon the spotty sunlight

the goosebumps on my leg and

Andrew Bird’s violin makes the trees dance

maybe is does not matter if wind or bow moves them

and all I can know if that this is all the heaviness needed to question

and the beauty in understanding that we understand nothing