shake it out


There are days when the weight of it all sits on my chest.
Always and evermore
There are emails
There are meetings
There are plannings and ideatings
And the myriad things that come from them.
This, that, and the other
Always and evermore
The making of the dollar and the scheming and the plan.

My heart is in forward motion, truly, and my vision is my cloak,
But some days even I wish I could drop it in the lake
And run around naked in the sand.
Maybe I’ll dive in and fish it out after it’s good and soggy
With the real, glorious weight of real, glorious water,
Not fake vistas and tapping keys and ballpoint pens and cancer lights.
I’ll squeeze the last drop of goodness out and shake it in the sun,
Then hang it from a high point to dry fresh in the breeze.
Maybe then this vision I had of changing the world
Will refresh me like I hope it will others.
Maybe I’ll wrap it round me to keep warm when winter comes.
Or maybe I’ll leave it there and go for another swim.

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