I wrote this poem several years ago. Part of being authentic for me is sharing with the world all of those little talents we keep to ourselves for fear that others will truly see who we are. This is who I am. A poet. An artist. A fallible human that is afraid of what it means to be seen. The most painful thing is being seen and misunderstood but this will happen no matter what we do. Unfortunately, we are not in control of other people’s perceptions of us and this fact will always terrify me. But I refuse to let being misunderstood drive me into hiding anymore. Without further adieu here you go world:
The first law of Thermodynamics:
Energy can neither be created or destroyed
it can only be transferred from one thing to another.
Our bodies can be consumed by the rage of
earth, wind and fire but we will never be destroyed.
We are a generation waiting for a revolution
that makes sense.
Waiting for plate tectonics to force our
bodies to recall the battle cry of the big bang.
It IS here but we are just not listening.
for something…anything to unite us
maybe our revolution begins
with time, a chain reaction,
an acknowledgement of the energy that surrounds us…
an acknowledgement that the energy is US.
We are the constant resurrections pacing sidewalks in flesh.
Maybe revolution is not a fist or a plan.
Maybe revolution is one foot in front of the other
thanking the trillion tiny deaths that made space for you to be.
Thanking the grain that is broken to feed us.
Thanking the plant that is maimed to clothe our naked frames.
Thanking the rain that gave up its place in the sky to quench our thirst.
Maybe revolution is this:
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.