something

and when, when you do grasp it in your hands, desperately
make sure you hold it firmly and tenderly and tightly
but not so tight that it cannot breath or find relief
like a dove waiting for the rapturous moment when
it can fly again into the sky with its kin
with the spirits and souls and hearts all ablaze
of those that know the meaning of growing from the wild

go, be free and hold it in your arms
that special thing only those who are not bound
can ever truly know within their blood
and because you are not tied with chains
to the hard and tepid earth,
go freely into the sun and feel its resonance
coursing through the fibers and veins of your corporeal entity

so live, live, live and love and hate and yearn
just know that you are alive and feel and are
not dead, but bursting with the coarse fabric
of that which cannot be named
and when you find yourself slack jawed in awe and overcome
with the enormity of your small existence
let free the beating wings from your hands and watch it go