the price of admission
is a seedling in the moist
all knowing land
it's the wisdom below our barefeet
protected by
so many
things; rubbers, plastics
anything to keep us from our
intimate worth -
the price of knowing the truth
having the patience
with heart and mind
instead of the extreme dance
the marathon of words
the anxious running we do
all
day
inside our skin
little parts, all our parts
running
naked down every single meridian
h
ighways full of our knowing
our wanting
our intimacy
our hunger
soil beds to lay on
to steep our
soaked
full of stress
bodies
our tea bag selves
dying
to be strained
pinched
and
seen
in that last concentrated drop
(part of a prompt 'price of admission')
ONE WEEK
FROM TODAY
GATHER in my kitchen
FEED ON spring
BE inspired
PINCH yourself
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