5. sacred

there is paradox 
lining the permeable membrane 
of our tissues and a spark 
deep in our bone core
that knows it without confusion

there is suicide in clinging
too tight to one singular bundle of cells 
housing one single lifetime 
in forgetting all life in cramped protection of one self
but also in indifference 
in anything less than absolute devotion 
to the one tiny flame placed gingerly in the warming house of our care, than absolute reverence for each blazing ball of specificity holding its place in the dark velvet womb of the sky

without every fiber of life being itself 
there would be no threshold of air transforming into skin for you and I to exist inside of

to know oneself eternal is to walk softly into the arms of death when she calls, to unearth her true face of welcome once we have come and danced our fill

but to quicken the drifting sands in the hourglass of our numbered breaths, to tear at the edges of the quilt of years we’ve been given
is to swallow a bruised and scattered reflection of our true inheritance 

you came here to remember you are holy
that is all

and remembering will pull each splintered separation from your tender spirit, will spill relief through every empty ache you thought was part of being human