nothing is too much to ask

wheel of the body:

 

earth

air

fire

water

 

: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

 

know

them

 

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

choice

 

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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