Poem: Purpose

It doesn’t matter
that the well from which 
you draw the chaos 
that becomes poetry 
feels dry today 

It doesn’t matter 
that your ideas 
of who you think 
you need to be 
are different 
from what feels true 
in this moment 

It matters 
that this river flows 
as it is her nature 
The solace it brings 
your dipped feet 
and your weary soul 
just happens 

It matters 
that the fireflies 
glow as they must 
That you see in them 
mystical stars 
brought to this garden 
just happens 

Listen closely 
to the forest, 
the river, 
the fireflies, 
the green pepper, 
the visiting sparrow 

They remember the truth 
that your body knows too