seen from up here
there is grace in
everything
seen from up here
walls fence nothing
in, or out. they are
the dashed lines our
children cut along
seen from up here
humanity is a flock
of little birds. we
see patterns and leap
ahead, ‘wake up!’
but up here our voice is thin
and our gaze goes unmet
we want to rain down
and adhere to the world again
let us speak with a voice
that we borrow from each other,
as if we could fathom the beauty
of each other’s suspended freedom
let us work together, restless
ones and those who contemplate
under a blossoming tree, for
we all need to need each other
let us blow up what we called egos
to a plump raspberry goddess
and laugh with her and dance
as what we share is not material might
it is a mirage, a mirage against
the dying of the light
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