i focus on what is well in me

under the panic and pain
the time layers of trauma
under the bruise from falling
after/while reading the news in public
and trying to dodge potential predators on the street

flustered by my fragility
when did i become frail
and who has time for that

after i mounted eeyore i learned he would not move forward
but i would
in this body, dismounted, unexpected
beautiful against all odds

even though my country of origin
cannot figure out what to do with me
since i won’t be a slave
and keeps coming for me
in pieces called bills and legislation

i will be whole and beyond all gruesome imagination
i know behind me is death
ahead of me, death
that is the promise of breath
but now
i swing lifeward from branch to vine
in relationship with each being that holds my weight
spinning round the maypole
weaving spells that open cages
casting my bones against a future worth dreaming
finding the open space where only my whole self is welcome

and then rest, rest

i focus on what is well in me
until it is the only self i see