We call this life difficult
madness, meanness we accept
that we don’t know, that we
are only who we are
when we are simply us…fallible
broken, dreaming of endings
that rise toward being
who we think we should be
never are, never are
and we climb out of our
own abyss to try to see
the shadow of the person
we aspire to be when
we want to be good/moral
just/happy/fair/whatever
we’ve been told is the model
the saint, the magic
we can never see…we hope
and in that small slice/sliver/crack
that minute of wonder…
…we are
all of it…until we aren’t and that
is who we really are…motivated
by living by seeing and believing
that we are more
than we can ever think
we are…and…
…we are.