There’s not much you need to do
Just a little nod
Like a permission slip to the moon
Let her call home the cells of you, the fibres and the threads
With songs your cells remember
As you forgot such a long time ago, remember? For what cannot be pronounced is what we call nonsense
But she knows, and her work is effortless
So you see, there is little you can do
Her healing is effortless, like the simplistic complexity of breathing
All you need do is give a little nod, “ok, I’m ready now”
And let him join in too, let him wrap his arms around you
His hand is already clasped within yours, you’re just squeezing so tightly you feel only the weight of your own force
Be a permission slip to the son, the spirit, the mother who knows your every step
There really is little you have to do
Just nod
And this currency we call life will not only fill you, vibrate you, pleasure you
It will empty you of all those torn paper notes
That cut your fingers and toes and play a sad tune
This universe is never without chaos but sadness, we can burn the branches of sadness and scatter the ashes.
There’s not much you have to do except show up
With nothing
Expecting nothing
Saying nothing
Holding a permission slip that you know was probably never asked for in the first place
