The Story of You

Finally, a poem.

Let go of the story you tell yourself
and it becomes the birdsong on the wind,
the ripple on the water,
yet it is still too tangible.

To let it go you must
turn yourself inside out and dissolve completely
be the no-thing.

Then perhaps you will find yourself
in the empty chocolate wrapper
the lucid cries of a newborn baby
a foxes tail
fairies in the glade
a squeaky door
the howl of the gale
the old man turning around in his sleep
the flicker of a cats tail
flowers growing in the mud
a single tear
a good, red wine
the nurse plumping the pillows
a clamped car
a phone battery, dead
the stop sign on a bus
the deep blue of turquoise in a ring that nobody will wear again.