Loss of Control

a poem

Consider this for a moment:
you don’t know better.

I’m speaking to myself of course
with my hands in the garden
surrounded by the buzzing & whirring

It’s a delicate walk to find what’s right
it’s hard at first
because you have to remove the benchmarks
+ every form of measure
by which you could
file something neatly away in a box
by which you could
achieve that temporary sense of peace.

I’m looking for lasting peace.

Life will let you know
but it’s a very quiet murmur
If you want to hear it
I think you must be willing
first
to set your ideas
out to sea.

See what happens
when it’s not all tied up with a bow
when the waves can be waves
and you are no longer captain.