suppose we divest from busy culture
from convincing each other we are
capable, productive
suppose we embrace our pace
release ourselves from
the impossible
the profane
the shame-fuelled task of proving ourselves worthy
I am worthy
here
under this willow
by this effortlessly rushing creek
I am worthy
in stillness
in process
in ease
I am worthy
as are you
as are we
and isn’t it productivity
that got us into this mess?
before creation
comes rumination
imagination won’t flourish
in cluttered minds
suppose we let ourselves be
before we make ourselves do
follow ancient rhythms
do-be-do-be-do
instead of contriving
observe will arising
maybe I’ll walk rather than ride
so I can inhale as I take in the sky
feel the brief tickle of milk thistle bristle, brush
of low-hanging cedar along my flushed cheeks
cool kiss of breeze across thinnest-skin lips
rough scrape of thick bark against that spot on my hips
that always peeks out of my shirt when I stretch
trade unhurried smiles with path-crossing kids
necks stretching from shells
turning tenderly toward sky
summoning our wonder
at the sheer luck of life
suppose I was not born
to be on time
to produce
to rush
suppose I am here
to feel
to ponder
to touch
and suppose I stay here
under this willow
all day
spinning repentance
into presence
From:
consents
+ / = / –
severances
poems by ziysah
pp 19-21.
The author lives and writes in Peterborough ON.
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