nothing is too much to ask

wheel of the body:







:burrow of the mind


nothing is

too much

to ask


like looking into a

mirror of time


we starve

our iron sides


of these gifts


what do you want

to be when you grow


up is really just what

do you want, which is


to say: to be happy


to walk and not faint

to wear talismans of

fury and fervor


to strike love into

things like plants


to long for spirit as

one longs to under

stand a language


longs to hear the

words and to





but we are terrified

of the elements


out of balance with

our own making


strutting the curb

side of the spine


while distant stars set the stage:

all of life, a carbon-dazzled


dizzying maze

leading to infinite


chains of



we perch on the edge


facing the throne in

stead of occupying it


instead of going in

for the steep feel


we do not own our space


we habitually lean in,

lean to the power of


another tower


we—innovators with

wings as eagles, with


veins as volcanoes; deep

enough for the hurt—


mount up and ride

out to meet them.



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