Living in the midst of this bull
and his shit,
I find myself blind to the crime
of all the fine china
smashed into shards—
fragments of artistry
making the point all the more sharply
that beauty is a risk.
And to move through this beautiful world
is liable to split
your skin
again and again,
at each step,
until you bleed out all that’s left
of all you were…
but to become yourself,
empty and clear-eyed,
envisioning new ways to ride
the waves of blood rushing out of all of us. Tide
is rising; let’s swim to the sky!
Gonna live high, and not just die trying!
Gonna imbibe
the spirit of life, so each breath we
guzzle or sip
will bring us closer to the rest we
earn the peace we
learn we
are
observing
that every wound we receive
becomes, ultimately,
a scar.