it occurs to me this morning
that flexibility is the higher order
of this earthy trip
from amnesiac birth
and warrior marching
through weed
and thorny ways
on toward an exit
back stage left
even as soon as tomorrow.
at the first sign of tightness
in thought and id
is the time to jump on that confusion,
(which creeks and aches like arthritis
in me, a short lived wow-man)
not when it gets too late
and I have cemented myself
into my own confusion.
does the world need my allegiance
to a side?
I hope not –
sides are always born
of confusion.
may the head to arms to toes of me
BE free of the tightness
born of rigid thoughts.
i like to linger in bed
and avoid the chill of morning
but the calisthenics needed
are not optional
if i want a lucid
view.
I whistle at the squirrel
and dance with walter the cat
and stomp confusion out as
i plunge myself into the frigid bath
of truth
breathing into the spacious air
shaking off all my thoughts
on a constant refresh rhythm.
for now, tea is still waiting
with heavy cream to boot, rich my life.
i’m getting it while i still can
and i’ll have no regret
as breath leaves this body bag
alone alone and together i am
with every worm and vulture
waiting to clean my bones
that served me well.
Life as Improv 
I liked this piece a lot, Marga. The arc of life from birth to death stated in beautiful evocative terms. Thanks you.
Thank you, Don. Enjoying the in between, as I know you and Alison are too! Hope you are well. 🙂
What Don said! I’ve been thinking about the inevitability of death a lot lately, and beginning to wonder why I cling to being a “me” with all the mental arthritis it brings, when I could just be done with it and smile.
Alison xo
I loved the part about not picking sides in this one. We fracture ourselves to create those lines within us, and then we find pieces of ourselves on both sides of the fracture anyway, only now bereft. And we can only sustain these divisions in moments when we forget the Great Quiet into which we are all of us sailing together… We are passengers on the same ship…
I fear that it’s the Titanic.
Yes, lately, yes! Maybe we can celebrate the good water view. 🙂
That spacious ship, with the name you’ve given it “The Great Quiet” painted on the stern. We forget it’s just a ride. I am holding a fender for any rough docking. So happy to have your visit here.