Song of Myself

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When I think of the groanings of the earth
And how she murmurs and whispers life that springs up
Through the firmament, cracks and fissures
Tectonic plates shifting beneath my feet in constant change as I am
I wonder at the sameness of it all
About how I too can split apart at the seams
Continents drifting, Pangaea lost
The world forever changed
About how earthquakes cause tremors along the fault lines of the heart

I stoop down to pick up the pieces
The tiny trinkets that make up me
That have fallen out of their proper place
And try to rearrange them so that they won’t be so easily moved
But I might as well try to chop down trees so that they won’t be destroyed
And store them away somewhere safe
While ironically being the cause of their demise
For you see if you want to be safe then you must accept a loss of control

Safe is not always best.

Roots must be allowed to spread in unsafe places
Dangling off of cliffs
Dangerously tethered to unstable ground
Should the foundation fail
The seed will still spread
And most likely in better soil

I cannot live life tying things down
Hoping that things will not shift out of place
When the world moves, so do I
And we have both learned to live with it

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