First there is nothing, then
a sign there might be something
comes like a sudden flinch
a flash in the night
an economic crash
the death of a friend
the bolt of a deer
before even the rifle shot is heard
traces are left
not in mud, but
footprints in drying cement
they harden
you come to know them
to fear them
you start to think
you’ve got an idea
you give it a name
now you’re getting somewhere
you can deal with this
to look, to listen
you can even smell the danger
taste it, feel it
this named thing
you can deal with this
reality, you can
deal with
the anxiety of life
the fear of things
the hoping
these needs
something
the wanting
the need to be sure, to be safe
to be anything at all
named
the striving for it
and you like it too
that which will have to be done
the preparations
and taking the leap
courage
that awful, fearsome leap
is the joy of life itself
the freshness
the song of a bird
the breeze on your skin
you are coming into your own
settled, sure, and even relaxed
maybe for the first time
in the cool shade of a good tree
spreading
just enough
before the slanting sun
the chill of night
and again
the sweet dreams of nothing
return
to nothing
