I am grateful after all,
for the way you turned my eyes around
and spun me in a circle,
I had not thought of the air there
before you windmilled it into shape.
I stretch out my long fingers
to catch two tennis balls,
and feel a tiny bit of your power.
I have it even now.
It pushes mountains while sleeping.
It fights off dogs in the night.
It rolls up its sleeves and gets right
down to the business of loving things.
are yours for the taking,
But I’d rather you’d pluck them
out of midair if you can.
Then, bury me in the sand.
Wrap my body in saran wrap and
Get all my friends to sign me
like an elementary school cast -
Or at least, if you could, please
let me tell the story of how once
I was very pink for you.
How once I lost it, track of everything!
The trick of everything is you never expect it.
But the trick is really just
the falling, and the rising back up again.
and the curving with the earth’s orbit.
In the end, we all must grab at this,
the known universe’s most glamorous rock -
and be made dizzy by its every rotation.
Nonetheless powering up
and growing taller in our own eyes,
letting ourselves into other rooms of ourselves.
A treadmill of near deaths and actual ones,
understandings and miscommunications,
inquiries and observations,
Teeth chattering worries and hard won happiness,
Bleak madness, and the occasional triumphant joy.
But, back to the tennis balls
Circling around your head:
Send em spinning!
Roll ur lazy eye on over and let
time careen off your back.
Drop down into the water
And let the earth hold you aloft.