Wait and see

That is how things collapse,
you know how it goes,
all at once.

From experience,
there was no other way.

I survived a major earthquake,
yet none jolt the nerves like those
fault lines
connected to the heart.

So, it is never
really one thing-at a time,
rather what we choose to do or see
about it,
like finding a moldy blueberry
and leaving it with the rest.

It makes one turn to meat,
foregoing the fruit.

There is a dotted line between
poison and penicillin.

There is more to throw away
than keep.

Rebuilding is going to require
everything,
except
accepting to live in the rubble
of what once stood
up to/against.



Image credited by Nyttend in [Public domain].

Marker

It occurs to me that a threshold

is essential for crossing over

leaving one place, entering another.

A transference or transcendence

if done intentionally

the past stays outside.

It occurs to me rather suddenly,

despite making plans and beds,

tucking corners and ducking blows,

this was all about some body, 

a place to rest

and what to do with what remains.

I have reconsidered 

that it may be the most selfless thing

to be buried in a plot, or swallowed by a sinkhole, 

instead of scattered

to sea, disbursed widely

without

a mark(er), a fold or ripple,

a place

where others can go

to meet with Memory.

This is the last thing I can do

for those whom I held the door for,

for those that may be missing and seeking

my presence-

No body

needed more than a place to rest. 



Painting By John Singer Sargent [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons, 'Open Doorway, Morroco, c 1879.

Knock on would

When your back is against the wall,

you must turn around and face it-

when you do, 

you will notice 

it was a door

all along.

Image by By Bill Jacobus [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.