Crisis is unpredictable and scary.
You cannot tell where all
the pieces will land,
and many of them are sharp
and heavy and need
constant flipping and turning over
to make them fit just so.
But with all the pieces
in motion, it is perhaps a good time
to grab one (or two)
and help it find a better
place and shape. Hey —
we know many pieces
have been tumbling in the air
long past time;
perhaps you forgot they were there,
or didn’t see
who had to hold and flip over
each one, jagged and heavy
years on end.
So, change your mind.
Be gentle. Be clear-eyed.
Catch, flip, round off,
place as if you are planting it
under the feet of your own, small child
who will wonder
about you
as time turns forward
and why you left everything
just so.
And she will only have these bare pieces
to tell her.
Poems from in between 