Once A Day

go for a walk at least once a day. 

before you go

slow down. 

take that inner coil

stretch it out flat 

asymmetrical.

find the switch labeled “in case of forgetting”

flip it.

do not stand clear

you could use the shrapnel

the emergency. 

siphon the blast down

into a tube guiding

a stream running

deep trout gliding.

Adult Blown Away

can be your headline.

Inner 8-Year-Old Takes Deep Breath

can be your editorial. 

let the dogs take you

where they want to go

not the other way around. 

let them lead you to

a dinner party

down by the creek

where an elephant named

Suffocation

and a tiger named

Natural Selection 

are having a heated debate

on the mortality of love.

listen for claws sinking 

while throwing a wink

to the geriatric owl

who times two

can’t stop rolling his eyes

at it all. 

throw confetti 

to the zebras serving grape juice. 

whistle thanks

to the badgers giving rides home. 

quietly excuse yourself

to the back row of poplars

standing like light bulbs 

turning on

over Earth’s head. 

go ahead. 

give your idea. 

let it whip-fire 

into existence.

let it go big and wicked and screaming

sending sparks into the universe

detecting the waves

magnifying the rays

reflecting the days

gone by. 

pack up your glory

while crow-playing-violins

start up your song

while the cello monks

hum and hum and hum

their hearts too big. 

quiet now.

slowly and carefully

tip

tip toe 

tip toe tock. 

Time builds up steam

rolls along her lover Gravity

his edges infinite, bending and broiled

by the past.

run now.

the middle and heart of your pack.

run for the freedom that awaits you

at home with hands the size 

of a country divided

the heat of invisible lines

and sides

and opinions

so many thousands of motivations

and jobs to do. 

hold on now.

to those tiny fingers

the smaller version of your grip that began

your hum

your buzz 

your vibration

your filling to emptiness.

you can not imagine 

the power here

of this walk. 

at least

once a day.