before you look up you must first look down
become aware of your figure fastened onto the earth
upon which you were conceived and then born and then raised
identify the weeds that grow in sidewalk cracks
and the leaves that glow green in the middle of december
and the puddles that are left over from midsummer storms
turn your gaze to the horizon
past the pothole-laden roads and worn out minivans and two-story houses of Suburbia
to the mountains
in their purple hazed glory
how you can cover their peaks with just the tip of your thumb
tilt your chin upward and rest your eyes on the sky
revel in the wonder that is space
the infinite shadow marked by pockets of blazing warmth
the unfathomable grandness that extends for centuries in all directions
the ultimate reality that you are but a smudge on the endless glass of the galaxies
an anomaly
nature's mistake
bound forever to the oasis which spins about among the limitless stars and rocks and ice and dust and darkness and
understand that you were never meant to be here
but realize that you are anyway