Oh you towering Giants,
don’t you dare crumble
before I’ve peered past your heads.

You’re Going to be Fine

When you’ve finished with the bath –
releasing the cool water
to dance around the drain,
and you feel the liquid bindings
pulling you with the current…
If the force doesn’t wrench apart your body,
If your molecules aren’t sent spinning to the oceans…
you’re going to be fine.

When you find your legs,
sore after a day’s walk in the scorching sun,
but your skin hasn’t been burned alive,
your flesh not cremated, or peeling to
reveal the disintegrating bone…
then you’re going to be fine.

When you find a throne up in the canopy,
and decide to rest
as long as you don’t wake up
with dew sapphires in your hair,
or shuddering under a coat of moss
And as long you can still break
the roots your toes have grown…
then you’re going to be fine.

If after a day in the fields,
with the wind above
a vulture waiting for its prey
your bones don’t crack,
when you bend with the grass
and your hair doesn’t decide
to join the dandelions…

Then little else can slow you down;
You’re going to be fine.


Why do we focus our attention
on the details we don’t miss.
Abandon them in comprehension –
let us never reminisce.

Let these shadows through your door,
as your spirits take effect.
For while they’re sleeping on the floor –
they’ll be easy to dissect.

They’ll ask to stay a while longer
and you’ll oblige, for they’re no threat.
With your new-found knowledge, you are stronger –
you will remember, but not regret.