blank blank fullness

This week I came to better understand and maybe even accept the haunting sadness in life,
of hopes never quite filled with air,
deflated in their submission to that all too human resignation
The sadness and absurdity of all these measures we take to protect ourselves
Masks turning from death’s cackle
Oh it crackles
In our bones
And so we turn to some snacking
Or some painfully banal parade of pride
Something
Anything
To fill the grottos of our wild and aching bellies
This week, I learned to appreciate the same things I also wanted to run from,
To deny
(As I would in the privacy of my mind)
That those equally absurd ideas encased in shoulds
Could actually fill me up
You know the ones
A mogul's million dollar pitch
Glossy pages
And music videos
No
I would no longer turn my head in discomfort
Looking away to some faraway glint on the horizon
Though it might dangle from the softness
Swaying over the ridge-line of my clavicle
So close yet so far
No,
I'd cherish the mundane hopelessness
That captures us all equally
And perhaps sing a song to echo it
Instead of drown it out
Yes I’d look the sadness in the eye
See it
And acknowledge it
“Welcome to the party
You too have a place at the table
In fact,
You may be the reason we’re all here”

money has replaced commitment
has replaced giving from the heart,
from our gifts,
those special things that only we have to give
like fireflies lighting up a July night
or the owl humming from darkness,
some wisdom and steady light
now we've flipped the script
and we chase the pages desperate to get
and yet,
when money is not the lens
how clearly we can see the world as a sacred dance
and our step
by step
is the only payment truly worth anything
and each movement is laid with 'how can I share?'
the life within me
instead of
how can I earn a life already mine to keep
for this short time, anyway
for this material game
is so temporary
so make your mind a blank slate
forget money ever mattered anyway
and look to see
how can I support what's already in front of me
and trust
trust sweet child
that we are held
by a hand of grace
made most happy
by your gifts made illuminated
when that hunger for having
is fed by giving, sharing, serving

what would your days look like
if you gave up your life
that is to say
the force animating you this way
and that
what if you gave it up to
the things you love the most
the people who stirred
and stole that precious secret you once hoarded
against your higher wisdom to share
and grow more for it
yes what if you were that kind
of person for another
a thief in the night catching moments with a glass jar
and then setting them free to the eastern winds
an offering so seemingly small
and ridiculous
that God
like a proud mother
a softened father
chuckled
with creases around His eyes,
sparkling in the way that only joy
only tenderness
could evoke
because you tried, dammit
to live a life the 4 year old you
would catch and release