How scared we are of being
meaningless
unwanted,
Rushing to make our accomplishments
known.
False identities choke us.
Silly humans.
These doings
haven’t anything to do
with our goodness.
They are nice
maybe,
or great
even,
perhaps amazing, delightful, honorable
and expressive of our innate beauty
but essence is not
a woman who’s heart we must fight for,
or a man whose eye we must catch,
or the nodding approval of our father,
or the celebration,
finally,
of the person we are
thrown by everyone that matters to us
(for better or worse)
because
really
the breath holding us to life
and back from death
already understands exactly
how powerful
loving and precious it is.
And it is us.
Try relaxing into that.

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