In every soul there lies a mountain
Where Protean infants are left to die
But never perish, crying out
Until picked up and raised by wolves.
Lost causes, best laid plans laid waste
Our deformed and wretched thoughts
Unloved but undestroyable, untamed
Running a step behind us with snapping jaws.
Our lost children, our genius forsaken
With hands like claws that grasp at flesh
But angelic faces caked with clay
Begging to be remolded and remade.
What if there was love-spun silk
With which to make a winding sheet
To wrap around with ties that bind
And heal with soft-spoken incantations?
What if that bereft mountain pass
Was not a place to mourn and forget
But a place to dance and celebrate
Our incandescent, transcendent failures?
What if whatever our journey created
Were held sacred even if unfinished or grotesque?What if the faces of all the Gods
Were reflected in perfect imperfections?
Could you embrace your fears with love
And feed them at the table next to your joys?
Would others hand you a cigar
To celebrate the birth of your disappointment?
If there were no bad outcomes
And every thought was safe to have
And every act was safe to try
Then the hell of self judgment falls.
Cradle your sweet tormented heart
For it is the hero of its own tale.
Soothe the brow of your weary world
For the universe can’t spin without it.
Each in turn, the foul and the fair
Deserve a measure of air and sky.
Soft breath or brimstone-laden deeds
Each needs love no matter how lost.
Perhaps all angels fallen and fine
Need to at least be able to try to fly.
And each may reach the height of their nature
Hearing a voice from whatever God cares.
If I can love my malformed pieces
And hold dark and light alike inside
So that shining through the shadows
I can project playful movement into the world.
If I can refrain from casting out my doubts
And embrace the days I weep with loss
Then I can see beauty even in the place
Where others go to lose themselves.
I can be whole: wretched and pure.
Saint and Sinner, blood and bone,
Desire and its sweet fulfillment
Content as a baby in welcoming arms.