~for Joey, August 2019
You will run from me — and you,
and I will let you.
I will run from you — and me,
and you will let me.
Standing is the hardest thing.
The toddler learning to walk
is his best in forward, lurching movement.
Some children crawl backwards — first.
The fear in front worse than that behind.
Standing is the hardest thing.
There is a reason men crawl
from the battlefield of bloody excursions,
with wounds and exhaustion,
the out-flowing of life so painfully deep.
Standing is the hardest thing.
It is easy to cease suffering, say the Buddhists:
Die to every truth you ever believed, fall into empty.
Let go every need and want until you disappear —
Free. Falling into a place of no ground.
Standing is the hardest thing.
Photo by Bianca Salgado on Pexels.com
Small Pieces of Being 
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