We’re All Murky

Ready for some vulnerability?

While I’ve written my whole life, I’ve never written poetry. But the other night, I was thinking about our identities, and how they change over time, and how sometimes we just want stability. So I wrote a poem about that craving for constancy.

I’m a beginner at this, and I’m terrified to put my scratchings on display. But here’s to change, and openings, and being something less than stone.

 

We’re all murky

We try to wash the mud away

Try to find clear skin beneath

But we only make a mess

 

We want stone

But we’re earth at best

We collapse

We rise

We shift

We slide

 

When are we at rest?

When do we

Calcify

Petrify

Solidify

Leave this mud behind?

 

We want stone

But thank God we’re earth

We’re earth, and alive

Mutable

Fickle

Fertile

 

We dig into ourselves

Plant

Water

Wait

And grow

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