Poem: To Be Vital

Love is that splendid triggering of human vitality, the supreme activity, which nature affords anyone for going out of himself toward someone else. 

~ JO Gossett

What would it take? 


Losing

everything
? Every

one
.

Raising both fists to the sky
,

falling down

on both knees
,

hands full

of dirt on the grave…

Would it take loving so hard you lose

(you lose)

the parts of yourself you never liked

much any way, finally able to give the
best back in return.

Would it take not living

through all of the days

we are breathing,

falling short instead

of exploding

into each day

like sun on a mountain trail.


Would it take

animal fur

a lover’s skin

the taste of 
winter

on the tongue?


Because

I’ve had

these.

I’ve had these, and

other reminders

every day 
to be decent

to be good,

and memories

of long and lonely nights


mine and yours.




But there is a tale

in the turn of every wheelchair,

the knees I see bending down

the halls late at night, hands clenched so hard

they are white, whispers at

midnight, bodies exposed that

have been penetrated by

steel and my

own shaking

hands.

These bodies break

so exquisitely around

the soul. And some

will never want to let go.

But what the rest of us carry around all day:

our aching hearts

our fractured regrets

our best moments

greatest successes

our dreams

and failures

are just as intriguing—the flaws 


we expose to the weather

of the world

sometimes bare chested and screaming

sometimes whole and

silent

with tears in both eyes

rocking a newborn baby

to sleep.