Chiefdom

Is it chiefdom to say
that I belong in these crumpled sheets hidden inside desire.
I long to rise and be risen by involuntary hands, by God perhaps,
out of the depths of ordinary
into worlds of living together where my contribution may be a smudge
not
apart?

When one crawls out of their cocoon wrestling with embryo fluid,
there is a light that awaits, yet an inside threat remains to remind us
that we are never in control. Beasts enable this inner dialogue.
If we think of the egoistic self it reminds us of instability as man,
man is unstable, unstable.

Crows swoon over picnic tables as we enjoy bits of unpolluted arising,
but they too know the impeachment of humanity.
It is an inside job that burns while shining a light for others.
When wrestling from inside the broken water of emergence,
you crawl from mother’s womb into the pools of the unknown
yet you are incapable of seeing contradictions, just yet.

Everything in this world realizes that we are never in control,
always at the mercy of something that creates a pressure you cannot define,
volcanic craters that build from attempts at unearthing the explosion,
but it shall explode, it is only a matter of time.

This realization leaves us longing, lonely perhaps or in awe
that what has transpired is no indication of what is to come,
that our superseding anything is a force of alienation

subject to the whims of particulate matter.

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