It feels good to fall down.
To come up empty handed.
A life fulfilled
Has already ended.
And when you make
that sacred stumble,
wear that mistake
like a stony mantle.
Feel that weight
with the fury of opera,
close your eyes repeat
that half breath mantra.
Work that rock
with the voice of the season,
Tom or Mike or Will or Stevens.
A life aglow with sideline voices
who play out all your unpicked choices
You’ll run and run
and run much longer.
And in the end you’ll be
that much stronger.
At least that’s what I whisper
into my pillow’s feathers.
Seasinks
acraein 