The rock,
the dense coldness you carry, can’t put down,
shift endlessly hoping
for a more comfortable position-
that stone you think is solely yours
as it mopes and drags and cautions and weighs and snivels,
all while closeting the real pain?
Think it belongs to you?
Turn your head,
look back down the line.
Greet your inheritance.
It is simply your time.
Now, begin the work-
call forth the generations of people
whose blood you share, and
who’ve given you each celestial day
to awaken again.

Advertisements