An angel whispered in my ear
That is was okay.
Her words like clockwork
Melted the worries in my soul
Because that's not what a soul was built for;
To worry. Not meant to house the toxic fog that gathers up like
A smothering, unwelcome cloud, mystifying the vulnerable eyes we
Were given at the hands of imperfection.
Someone once said that wabi-sabi, being perfect in our imperfections
Was in fact the greatest gift of being human; the greatest of them all. And then
Somehow I started to believe that my focused mind
Could truthfully be my sharpest weapon. God knows it's where all
The words come from. It's where all my greatest discoveries are made. It's where
The signals are sent from like the flashing lights; Morse Code to my heart.
And my life is rescued. It is rescued by this melody
That I can't seem to stop singing. Any melody, really, I love them all. As long
As the music keeps playing and my heart keeps beating and there's no limit
To what I can do. As long as the sky still stands like a welcoming mother
Above my head and facilitates that sense of wonder, and the stars remain
Pillars for me to reach toward but never sharp balls of fire for me to fall endlessly into.
Because I'm not him, I'm not irrelevant; I don't live like Mr. Prufrock. I can be a loveable
Fool but you will never fool me into believing that it's a crime to disturb the universe.
I'll eat a peach, live like a peach, and be peachy. I'll drive to Georgia and eat all the sweet
Peaches I can get my hands on, because the angel
Whispered in my
Ear and left a telegram
That read:
Hello, stop. You're beautiful, stop.
And as for all of the doubt,
Stop.