Crying out

If you grew up in a world where
crying out
was discouraged,
better know that everything else
does.
The table of elements, for example,
horrifies itself by making allies across
impossible events.

Take the body, for another example,
an impossible vehicle for living,
yet what a living it is,
and so much depends.

If you'd surprise yourself, just a little,
and look under the lining of language,
behind the curtain of contrived care,
beneath the carpet of courage on which
we'd all prefer to walk:
and recognize the face that
we avoid:
we might see our own,
and hear our voice for the first time
crying out something really simple
we've never learnt to say.

One note of music, then the gap before the next,
when you know it,
tells me this.

I have heard it crying out,
saying the very
impossible.

I have no problem
believing it because I
hear the heart.
It sings its own way
without trying
and the orchestra is having fun
following some composer's fascination
before going home
to known smells and rain
rattling down on the roof of
everything,