Sorry for the Self Discovery Channel

 


But life has taught me

that no matter how much I might want to free

my spirit from the body that is it’s box,

let go of my ideas about what’s possible

and sort of drop them into Fate,

it’s the reality that life comes to an end

that makes the body and the mind

inherently worthy of an eternal life

expanding moments into perspective.
 


But when I think vainly

about my body speaking to millions

and being adored for it’s capacity to invoke feeling,

I’m reminded of that time

in the basement of a college dormitory,

where I accompanied a beer stained recliner,

on which I played guitar for a theatre major,

as he coached me on the finer points of performance

through empties

dripping stage fright

into the bucket of my ear,
 


and how

each time I found myself wanting to sing

only for the ghost of aloneness,

my coach

pushed the bone of self confidence

over the edge of my envy,

with a sentiment one might find inside the eyes of

mourners listening to a sermon

they wished were more unbearable.
 


So now I’m thinking

maybe rediscovering enchantment

is not so much about reconciling guilt with gratitude,

but perhaps it’s just about

searching for a harmony

vibrating somewhere between life and life,
 


a human chord that makes perfect sense to me,

since it’s just like me

to revolve my mind around the reason I want to be,

unaware I am both the reason and the feelings

coursing through it.


Then again,

Nobody said it wasn’t human to be aware of this either.