The house is the same as it’s always been.
The curtains are drawn and the stage is empty.
The plants set the scene with a gentle hum,
staving off airs of total stagnation with their stubborn
commitment to growth.
Your favorite armchair says ‘welcome’ in the corner, and
that artsy lampshade paints light on the walls.
A cute entry table is scattered with junk mail,
and the coat rack is full of inventions.
The love of your life is as loving as ever,
and yet busy tonight, working late in his room.
Your cat is digesting her second dinner,
purring the peace of sleep.
And the carpets, no matter how cleverly woven,
can’t help this evening but drip with void --
the same sort of opening, endless space
that used to make you mad at the ocean.
In the closet rest the monsters
of your every day life — wild piles of laundry,
both dirty and clean.
Tomorrow you’ll finally put them away,
but tonight they’re unseen
as nothing unfolds
and boredom and madness are fighting outside
for first rights to knock at your gateless gate
with Netflix, Thai food, and wine.
The monsters force choices:
Create or destroy?
Or fess up
to the taste
of salt
in your mouth
and remember
how to swim
or to walk on water
just for a chance
at the middle way.