What you deserve is a prize
for your unique composition
and salubrious quality.
Recognition for your
mineral effervescence.
Your greatest asset,
however,
is your bafflement.
Your doubt is the air through which
the harp string oscillates.
How dull would life be without confusion?
What I’m hearing is that
you might be afraid
of a little mud.
That’s okay. The earth
is no less eager
to embrace you.
Please imagine your fear
as the peeling layer of birch bark,
feeding the beetles.
Please imagine your fear
as an okra seed,
surviving impossible journeys
to blossom everywhere
only because it is very hard
and very small.
What we deserve,
all of it, the silk and
the cake, the jasmine and
the moonlit swim hole,
everything
spills forth unimpeded.
Please do not take umbrage
at the smell of reptiles,
living and dead.
Please do not let
the coyote trick you
into leaving your home.
At least stick around
until these plums are ripe.
Stay here with me
while the kudzu spills
over us like syrup.
tacohole dot net 