Rubble

Down past the exhausted mental equations and
under all the rubble of rowdy, reckless, relentless brain-bashing problem-fixating wreckage
is
this
you
humming something yummy,
something other than all the rubble exhausted,
other than all the dead-ends and impossibilities.
take off your shoes, man.
take them OFF;
sit your hind quarters down on the best stuff of mother
dirt and
put those palms down on the sand and
feel the heartbeat of heaven,
heaven reaching earth and jiving us a song of something swift and true
while those waves crash the shore and those sky rats screech incessant greed.
keep your palms down there on the earth of what is so much more,
more than the rubble and the dead end impossible endings
or likely horrible consequences ringing in that head:
“maybe it
won’t
work, maybe it won’t be right
maybe I’m wrong
maybe this wheel goin’ round is gonna break me”
maybe your brain can shut up.
maybe the despair can just go rot
because you
are.
get your feet in that water and breathe deeply
in the feast
and
out the dross.
suck in a gut against the loss and know,
know that nothing can separate you
from love.
nothing at all.
palms down, heart open, mind hushed…
nothing.
Breathe. You’re not alone. It’s not hopeless.
It’s just not easy.