in niwot i ran without any need for air

the world isn’t interested
in our definitions
of “dependable”.

the world is not meant
to meet our
perceived needs.

they say,
“i love you,
i can’t wait
to see you”,
and fewer than
twenty four hours later,
“i no longer want
to see you”.

they say,
“skies are clear
and clouds are high,
enjoy the warmth
and mildness of the day”,
you leave your house
without a raincoat,
the unpredicted funnel cloud
leaves with you without
your house.

they say,
“good morning,
how’s it going?”,
you lean against
a counter, sipping
the morning’s undiluted coffee,
you say,
“fine, all is fine”,
and then keel over
dead before you hit the ground.

the grief sits
on your lungs
like lead.
you labor
to fill yourself
with air.

the world gives you
your air.
you give yourself
your grief.

you labor
to fill yourself,
your leaden lungs
stiff with grief;

sit with it.
feel it.
do not depend
on it.
do not expect
anything
from it.
notice it.

watch,
with curiosity,
without judgment,
how your body
contracts
as your mind
throws out
another thought.

your lungs pull
at the air around you,
the giving world
never expecting
anything
in return.

here,
take this
experience,
and this one,
and this.
do with it
what you will.
turn it
to grief
or turn it
to noticing.
turn it to
curiosity.
turn it to opening.

always
to opening.
always,
and ever-present,
joy.