Almost Midnight
Almost Midnight
Wife and dogs have gone to bed.
I sit here with the front door open.
Crickets sing patiently, a long lullaby
in lazy harmony. Rain falls
on our tin roof; sharp taps of reality,
start and stop. I breathe myself back
into my body. Come back, self. You’ve
been out fighting demons and bullies
and liars. You’ve been talking
to an electronic box with no ears.
You’ve been cheering for a democracy
that doesn’t exist. We’re all walking on bones.
Some of us are walking on more bones
than others. Breathe. Back into the body,
little one. The human world is broken,
but so beautifully. Corruption of the soul
never shows scars; when you don’t resist,
no wounds exist. Breathe, breathe it back.
In this world, we live in bodies of flesh.
In this world our souls tether themselves
with blood. This is a good thing. Otherwise
we might take wing into darkness,
never touch our Mother, twist language
into silvery shapes. Breathe now. Let
the crickets tell you their truth.
Let it be yours, for now.
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