unconscious

rationally
it’s not over.
realistically
it lacks the momentum needed to end.

but it’s not a matter
where we can move mountains to find
the quick solutions I once thought
we needed.

it’s not a matter
of knowing the way
charting a course
following others
or finding a destiny.

we say we know enlightenment and we truthfully
know little.
we want to be the big shots in the sky
yet honestly we’re specs of dust in this galaxy.

the notion that the water will heal
or the acid will burn
or the french toast will mitigate our hunger
are all as unchallenged as our existence being
intelligently designed.

we pretend we want a life
filled with happiness.
we manifest ideas of what happiness must become.

remember the chicken in the pot?
don’t want that.
remember the car in the garage?
don’t want that.

remember the shelter being solid and the
clothes being spun and the
food being warm and the
children being healthy and the
silly little idea of peace
being the aspirations of our generation?

I do.

my tiger says I once ate meat.
he says in the bengal jungles I climbed trees.
he says my friends were few and far between.
he says my walks were through the mud.
he says my tail was soggy from the water I splashed.
he says my idea of a lazy day was a winter’s eve spent in conversation.
and a quick meal was in considerable dispute
if it wasn’t raw and bloody and full of death.

but I also wanted simplicity.
I wanted goals that were attainable.
I wanted materials that were useful.
I wanted music that was singable.
I wanted literature that was inspiring.
I wanted friends that were comforting.
I wanted employment that was fulfilling.
I wanted food that was nourishing.
I wanted hope that was neverending.
I wanted peace to be reigning through the universe.

what froze?
what forced out the deep commitment
to living so open
and so unprotected
and so willing to share
this experience
with the unknown and the uninhibited and the
unconscious?