letting the spirit live


can you spend your

whole life buying    time?


you can’t afford it –


and anyway, it’s

not for sale.


in this foreign field,

fraught-wading between


light and dark;

past and future;

flowers and fury –


tiny bits of    terror    follow

across the measured miles,


biting, questioning:


     who are you? what are you doing?

     where will you go? what is your purpose?


when you stop to touch a yellow daisy,

your feet feel they will catch    fire.


you have been this way before;

the beauty and blur of a waking dream:


so close to the turn,

the bend in the path,

the hidden fork just beyond the


panic-swung foot-bridge.


when you reach the two trails,

will you even know which way to go?


the i-don’t-know follows

you down every line you cast


as you wait for the next plank

to slip under your trembling —


just in time,      just above the roiling.


it is so tempting to turn back,

to return to the known


even as it ex-sanguinates you.


it is non-negotiable,

this chasing of dreams,

of letting the spirit live:


you must keep moving

your soul-feet forward.




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