the fool

I seem to have lost my muchness
That surrender
To the mystery
Of life
And magic
That firm belief
In the wisdom
Of letting go

Pushing has gotten me nowhere
Planning has gotten me tangled
And plotting
A tangled ball of yarn
Refusing to be sorted

If I am a servant to anything
It is the muse
Who only visits
An open heart
Willing to risk
Being the fool

And so I invite it
I lay out the welcome mat
Stand in the doorway
And wait
Because I am not here
To make sense
To this world
And it’s crumbs

Time can have its urgency
An unwelcome guest
In this wintery heart
Longing to poke through
The dirt
And feel the spark
Of the sun again

If I am to be here
I wish to be as
An invitation

To the magic
In my bones
Accountable only
To the wild winds
And water
Singing me into
Her

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