part one, part two. [11.23.09]

(pt. 1)
today is life.
life is what i 
taste
like the froth in my glass of milk,
drained to the dregs yet always filling.
life is what i 
feel
like the warmth of one thousand suns,
alive and shining
life is what i 
dream
like a patient hoping,
wishing for a cure.
life is what i 
hear
like a concert, harmony
in the sound of ascending chords
and life,
life is what i touch
in the softness of your skin,
your eyelids crinkling at the corners.
life is 
freedom
like the wisps of my hair,
twisting patterns in the air
it is inescapable,
a vagrant on the run to some
higher, nobler place.
life is bitterness - 
the grounds, the dregs at the
bottom of the cup.
life is 
joy 
the final song in some high school dance
where the kids all gather around
and move. 
and no one wants to be caught standing still.
and oh, i won’t be the one caught standing. 
because
life is
love
in tragedy, in stronger arms and weaker hands
in broken-ness, in strength, in hope.
an old man and an old woman and two old hands
and two old beating hearts.
life is
this.
life is 
eager,
a sprinter racing for some final prize.
and his feet won’t stop to lose.
they move, move. 


(pt. 2)
so let’s move
for early mornings, sleepy eyes
cracking open to take in light.
for children hiding around,
not sure what they desire.
for the listless, and the broken.
for all the times that we remember pain
and where it’s brought us. 
for the days where we remember the 
looks in the eyes of those we love 
for the days when we can’t remember
any eyes at all.
for the roads that brought us here
and the roads that got us nowhere.
move for the sake of moving,
so that every person in every suburb,
village, every town and every city
will feel the earth shake.
move for laughter, light, promises
move for belief,
move because you mean something. 
move,
for distorted sunbeams dancing across waves of salt.
for grains of sand we hold in sunburnt palms
reminding us how small we are. 
move for every day you’ve opened up your eyes
and breathed in air.
move for each pulse, each rhythm, each movement of your hands.
move so that you always remember
the legs that have carried you and the arms that have held you. 
move for what moves you. 
with pounding legs and pounding hearts and bloodshot, opened eyes,
move like hell itself were chasing you, like God Himself is calling you, 
like air and time and space are running out. 
move like a father late to work,
like a mother late to meet her child,
like every vein and every artery is screaming out for movement.
with every pulse reminding you of life
and life is movement. 
to step out of the stagnant. 
to move.