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
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

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


+ / = / –

poems by ziysah

pp 19-21.

The author lives and writes in Peterborough ON.

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