Past

The day trembles forward,

one step then another.

This life spills out of the cup,

the cup that measures worth.

Worth.

Today I stew in the absence of purpose.

Who determines my steps?

This mind?

This breath?

This soul?

Too many voices,

I must clear this space.

Too many voices,

I won’t talk to nothing.

Silence fiends,

you robbers of joy that fills.

Silence heartbreak,

you devil that tastes my tears.

I have purpose.

I know where it lies.

I push,

like a seed pulling out its leaves

bursting from the earth

into love.

I am the sun.

I am the everything.

I am the morning,

the breath

and I choose,

to make everything new.

The rumbling stops.

For a moment I am still.

For a moment I am me.